#pidge does prose

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

Hmm, skk with this quote for the ask game

have some 17!skk being stupid

"It dawned on me then that I would feel this ache caused by your absence for the rest of my life." Dazai sighed dramatically, staring at Chuuya sadly. Chuuya shoved him in response, snorting as Dazai nearly fell over, "I've only been gone for a week, you idiot." "And it was far too long! Gosh, I was basically dying! Ooh- maybe you should have stayed away longer-" "Hey, don't go back on your statement now." Chuuya scruffed him, shaking him a little. The drama queen that Dazai was, of course, whined in response, "I can do whatever I want! I'm an executive!"

#pidge does prose #bsd #skk #soukoku #dino answers #asks #ask games

[curiosity-killed]

a hard night

@synergetic-prose​ ahhh okay i LOVE this prompt and also am sorry that this got....somewhat sidetracked and only sort of followed said prompt orz

Pairing: Shiro/Allura/Ulaz Word count: 2045 Warnings: Major character death (fake), PTSD, nightmares

They all have their own ways of handling their scars. In the middle of the night, Shiro will slip out on silent feet to train against the gladiator until his legs quiver from exhaustion and his arms can no longer lift his bayard. Allura will hole up in the command center, monitoring the surveillance both within and without of Atlas — making sure no one attacks and no one disappears. There are nights where Shiro can’t stand the softness, the openness, of a bed and tucks himself into a corner of the room where he can keep an eye on both them and the door. A chair is his only concession to comfort those nights. Nightmares wake them all. But tonight — tonight is a good night. It’s been a long day, filled from the first moment to the last. Ulaz’s shoulders ache with the strain of having been well-used, and the soft pads of his fingertips sport the tender rawness that comes before callouses have had a chance to form. The bricks they used and the tall beams were still rough, and he probably should have worn gloves. Still, it’s his favorite kind of fatigue: one born of rebuilding instead of fighting, hope instead of fear. The industrial showers of Atlas had washed away the dirt and dust of reconstructing from his fur, and Allura had insisted on braiding back his crest till only the very tip was loose to tickle the back of his neck.

Now, curled around Shiro with his ankles tangled in Allura’s, Ulaz has only enough energy to seep into the honey-warm contentment that has settled deep in his chest. Already, Allura’s chest rises and falls with easy long breaths, and Shiro gives him a sleepy smile from where his face is smushed into the pillow, half-hidden. Lifting a hand, Ulaz combs gently through his bangs, brushing them sideways out of Shiro’s eyes. His smile broadens and he closes his eyes, nestling deeper into the mattress and pillow. Taking a deep breath and letting it out easy, Ulaz does likewise and lets sleep slip blanket-like over him. The grass is soft, flattening beneath his boots rather than crunching and breaking off. The fire hasn’t reached here — yet. Already the air has turned thick and grey, smoke a living thing that coils against his suit, forms feeble hands around his neck. If he peers hard enough, he can make out the shapes of the buildings, half-ruined, crumbling in silhouette through the smog. He can’t be that far away. He has to make it. Urging his limbs to move faster, he finds them heavy, sluggish. Silence rings in his ears, the echoes of an explosion he wasn’t there to witness. There’s a kind of pressure deep in his skull that buzzes in the curves of his inner ears, and the edges of his vision are blurry, smudged like fingerprints on a visor. He trips on the long arms of the smoke still rising from the ashes of these strangers’ homes. Kolivan is first. His eyes are still open, dulled and paled against the stark scarlet dried over his throat and jaw. White bone gleams through the ruin of his cheek. Ulaz’s stomach lurches but he stumbles on. There’s no saving his leader, but the cause has always been greater than one soldier, greater than any of them put together. It must go on. He must go on. More bodies follow soon after, some he knows, some he only saw in passing. Some wear masks but others are bared and their faces look so young, too young, barely older than kits. He cannot stop to grieve for them. The time for helping the dead is long past. All he can do now is search for the living. He doesn’t find them. One by one, the broken bodies of the paladins appear through the rubble. Garish red streaks across the white of their armor. Hand prints pattern Hunk’s cuirass and finish at his cheek, too small to belong to his own hand. Beside him, Pidge is crumpled with her face hidden in the rocks. Lance is a little further off, facing away. Ulaz can’t bring himself to walk to the other side, to see the aftermath of the helmet fractured and dripping red just beside the paladin’s lean body. He doesn’t find Keith at all, only the red bayard and the shards of a luxite blade. His hand flexes, curls tight on empty air instead of his own saber’s handle. Rare and terrible is the force that can shatter a Blade. Swallowing, he forces himself to go on. The urgency of before has drained away, replaced with a heavy despair. Desperation is the only thing that keeps his steps from halting completely. He hasn’t seen Shiro or Allura yet. They could still — they might not be — he could — He finds them together — and alive. Shiro’s grey eyes burn violet, quintessence a toxic blood crackling through him with the acrid taste of Haggar’s touch. His left hand wraps around the black bayard’s handle, curled over Allura’s fist. The tip of the blade juts scarlet and wrong from his back, a perfect line to Allura’s arm. His right hand is pressed to her belly, knuckles kissing her skin where the blade of his prosthesis has burnt through armor and undersuit. The scent of burning flesh clogs the air, chokes Ulaz where the smoke hadn’t succeeded. Rigor alone seems to hold them in place, bodies using the last of their fight to make sure that this gruesome sacrifice is complete. When Allura turns to him, it is with jerky motions, mechanical. Her blue eyes burn. “You,” she hisses. Blood trickles dark down her lip, sluggish. “You were supposed to stop this. This is your fault.” He knows enough about Altean anatomy now to know where her injuries must fall, know the source of the thick black-burgundy blood staining her teeth. His mind, inconsiderate beast, turns to that with a kind of detachment, cataloguing the damage done to her as if he were still performing research in Haggar’s torture chambers. A punctured lung, internal bleeding, potential rupture of digestive organs — by rote, it notes them down as if in black-and-white text on a report. “Why didn’t you do anything,” Allura snarls, voice rising in a hoarse call. “Why didn’t you save us?” His feet are planted to the spot, staked into the grass as if they’ve grown roots. Even if he could move, he doesn’t know what he’d do. To touch her would be an insult, a disgrace. She’s right. Her words deserve more than his faltering comfort, his insufficient justification. He should have fought harder, should’ve done more, sacrificed himself before accepting the death of a thousand others. “You failed us,” Allura cries. Beneath his feet, the planet shudders and groans, giving way at last. When he falls among the rubble, the darkness is almost a relief from the hatred in Allura’s eyes. He wakes to the soft hush of Atlas’ air cycle kicking on. Their room smells of soft things, clean fabric, a hint of juniberries, but the smell of death clings to his fur and mind. Swallowing, he unfolds his fists to lay flat over his belly and forces himself to breathe. Long, slow inhales and matching exhales expand his chest, press the warm fur up against his palms. His heart beats a frenetic rhythm in his neck, ragged with remembered fear and adrenaline. He remembers that planet, that mission, that failure. He’d been so much younger then — in heart more than years — and still heady with the arrogance of the newly initiated. Back then, he’d still believed that their sacrifices meant that no one else had to sacrifice, that their deaths meant that no others had to die. And then Kijala Four had happened. His fingers tighten, claws scraping through his fur, and he forces them to relax once more. He taught himself this practice back when he was working under Haggar. Any discrepancies, any odd behaviors, would jeopardize the mission, and so he could not afford to get up and walk the ship’s cold corridors or commandeer a training room until his body was too exhausted for dreams. Any comfort he sought, he found alone and in stillness. The witch’s eyes were ever-present and rarely inhibited by wall or closed door. Like a small creature, he holed up in the darkness and stilled his trembling limbs to keep away from the hunter’s gaze. The mattress dips and there’s a rustle to his left. “‘Laz?” Allura mumbles, his name a mush of sound. “Apologies,” he murmurs, “I did not mean to wake you.” “Didn’t,” Allura says before a yawn splits her words, squeaking on the end. She lifts a hand to sweep back the great tide of white hair tumbling over her forehead. “Atlas thought you were in distress.” Despite himself, Ulaz’s lips twist in displeasure. He should be used to it by now: Allura and Atlas are nearly a single whole, divisible only with effort and never completely, and though Shiro’s connection to Atlas is dwarfed next to his with the Black Lion, his time nestled in Allura’s soul left them bound. By extension, occasionally, Ulaz benefits from a strange sort of benevolence from the ship that offers him rooms at a preferred temperature or pathways opening up to speed his trips around the many levels. Still, he cannot quite accustom himself to the invasiveness of the ship’s sentience and omniscience. “It is nothing,” Ulaz says, stiff. Propping her cheek up on one fist, Allura eyes him in silence for a moment. There’s a keenness, a knowing, to her gaze that tiredness doesn’t abate. “Was it a nightmare?” she asks. He hums, reluctant to give much answer. It was a nightmare in the most basic sense, a terrible dream wrought of his own fears — but it was not only fantasy, was grounded in true failings, in sense memories that linger in his hands and ribcage. He doesn’t want to burden her with the phantasms his mind concocts or the terrible truths from which they’re born. “Would touch make it worse?” Allura asks. That gives him pause, and he hitches up his shoulders in an uncertain shrug. “Not worse,” he offers. It’s enough for Allura to give a firm nod and turn around to swing her legs off the edge of the bed. The motion seems to rouse Shiro, who lifts his head to squint blearily first at her and then at Ulaz. “What’s wrong?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. “Nothing,” Ulaz answers. “Just a bad dream.” Shiro’s forehead scrunches up in a frown. It doesn’t ease as Allura steps around the foot of the bed to clamber up on the other side. Ulaz has to shift inwards to make room, and in doing so, realizes that something’s changed about their relative proportions. He twists around to look at Allura and finds her his same height, tall enough to curve around him from back to toes and reach over him to Shiro. “How is that?” Allura asks. Her voice comes out in a warm breath against his shoulder, and he can feel the steady thump of her heart against his back. Swallowing, he gives a little nod. “Good,” he says. She hums and nestles a little closer, tucking her feet between his ankles and her face into the curve of his neck. On his other side, Shiro watches the proceedings with a solemn, confused frown before it eases into a gentle smile. Smallest of their trio, he folds himself into Ulaz’s chest so that his head fits under his chin and his left arm curls around his side. If they stay like this, that arm’s bound to go numb, but Shiro shows no sign of discomfort, and Ulaz makes no move to dissuade him. The weight of their bodies on either side seems to form a kind of gravity, a grounding force that tethers him here and now. He sinks into it, lets his lungs follow the steady rise and fall of their chests, lets his heart settle into a matching rhythm. The nightmares will return someday, will crawl back on broken, bloodied feet. For now, though, his princess and paladin will keep him safe.

#shalluraz #shiro #allura #ulaz #voltron #vld #voltron ficlet #my writing #ot3: asterism

[marlettwrites]

Tag 10 People You Want To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by the lovely @planets-and-prose! Thanks!

Nickname: I have a couple of these, actually. My brother and D&D group call me Pidge (because I look a bit like Pidge from Voltron) and sometimes Cole, which is the name of the character I play as. I also get called Mar, Mar-Mar, and Merlin.

Gender: Gender-neutral

Astrological sign: Gemini

Height: 5’1″

Sexuality: I’m Ace and I think I might actually be demi-romantic. I used to identify as panromantic because when my now girlfriend explained it to me, I understood it as ‘you get a crush on a person based on their personality instead of their genitals’ which... isn’t wrong? But it does fit demi-romantic more than it does pan.

Hogwarts House: I’m a sneaky sneaky snake. People are generally surprised and/or skeptical when they find this out, because I’m the type of friend who will bake you cookies and knit you a sweater. 

I mean that literally. 

My best friend has a rainbow sweater that I knitted for him. I made one for my girlfriend in her favorite colors, too. 

However, I also have a hard time keeping my competitiveness in check. In meaningless 5-minute games, that line about how Slytherins will ‘use any means to achieve their ends’ rings a little too accurate for me. I’ve cheated before, and I’m not proud of it, and I want to be the kind of person who doesn’t do that. Ever.

I know it might not seem like a big deal because we were playing Down by the Banks of the Hanky Panky with no stakes whatsoever, and I haven’t cheated at any game since, but it’s the p r i n c i p l e

Favorite animals: Leatherback sea turtles! And green sea turtles!!! And manta rays!! And great white sharks!! And leopard sharks!!! And whale sharks!! And butterflyfish and angelfish and-

Where I’m from: Earth, probably

Dream trip: Atlantis

But for something more realistic, I’d love to visit the Galapagos islands.

When I made this account: Like... Uhhh... hnnnn... I think I made this around October 2018? Maybe a few months after??

Why I created this account: I was trying to run a writing blog out of @marlettpines, but I kept finding stuff I wanted to reblog that had fuck all to do with writing and it turned into a huge mess. So I made this blog to be my ‘look how put-together and professional’ I am space, while casually adding to my shitposting hoard on my other blog.

Followers: 177, and I love each and every one of them. :)

Tagging: @kai-writesstuff @imaghostwriter

#tag game #marlettwrites #get to know you tag game

[nothing-thats-all]

RWB - Outtakes and Aftercare: Extended Cut

~Hey all! As promised, I’m posting all my unfinished prose segments that were originally intended to go somewhere in my AO3 story, Rivals-With-Benefits, so that I can send them to people who request them.~

Everything is under the cut :)

Fragment 1: I asked tumblr to give me prompts from a list of quotes that were to be the first line in a story/chapter. Here is as far as I got with it.

“I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before we do anything else.”

Lance puts a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Pidge,” he says. “I am wearing a full suit of armor. We are in space. I might die tomorrow--there are too many reasons not to wear underwear, and you’re trying to tell me I have to?”

He doesn’t look over at Keith. Yes, this little spectacle is mostly for his benefit. But then again, most things Lance does are.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you.” The green paladin crosses their arms. “I refuse to do anything with you if I know you’re going commando under that bodysuit.”

“So if you don’t know I’m doing it, it’s fine?”

Shiro sighs heavily. “Lance, you really should be wearing underwear.”

Lance throws up his arms.

“You can’t even see anything,” Lance counters, not sure why this argument is still going on. He meant the comment to be offhand, something shrugged off as “just another Lance thing”. But Pidge seems to have taken it hard.

“That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“You’re making Pidge uncomfortable,” Hunk cuts in. “That’s reason enough.”

Lance’s steam runs out. That is never his intention. “Sorry, Pidge.”

They look at him with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, you want me to go put underwear on.”

The entire team watches Lance.

“Yeah, joke’s on you guys ‘cause I was wearing them the whole time!” Lance juts out one hip and stretches the fabric of his bodysuit so the faint line of his boxers is visible through it. “See?”

Pidge groans and shoves him, Shiro shakes his head, Hunk surrenders a grin, and Keith rolls his eyes. That’s more of a reaction than Lance usually gets from him--at least around other people--so Lance considers it a win.

Fragment 2: I was initially going to make chapter 9 (the chapter after Lance took a blaster shot to save Keith and ended up in the cryopod and Keith had a dream in which he confessed his feelings for Lance and subsequently avoided him like the plague for several weeks) from Lance’s perspective, with a lot of angst and bad communication, which is pretty par for the course for these two. I didn’t end up doing that, but I had a nice conversation between Lance and Hunk written out.

“Hey, Hunk, can I--can I talk to you?”

Lance steps into the training room and takes a seat along one of the walls.

Hunk pauses, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of a wrapped hand. “Yeah, buddy. Of course. What’s up?”

“Wait. Is Pidge here?”

“No.” Hunk laughs a little. “They tapped out about ten minutes ago and went to work on their new pod modifications.”

“Okay.”

Lance doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and Hunk takes it as a subtle cue to keep doing what he was doing, and hits the punching bag a few more times. “You’re really not doing a lot of talking,” Hunk says, and drops his fists when Lance’s silence continues. He picks his shirt up off the ground and slides it over his head as he walks over to Lance. “Which is unusual for you. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. You can keep doing what you’re doing, really--I don’t want this to be some big thing.”

“You saying that automatically makes me think that it is a big thing,” Hunk shoots back. He grabs a towel from the stack by the door and starts to pat his arms dry as he slides down the wall, joining Lance on the floor.

“It’s really not,” Lance argues, though at this point it’s just because he’s expected to say it and if he didn’t, Hunk would be even more worried. He wrings his hands a little, nervously. “But--Keith’s been acting weird, right?”

Hunk lowers his eyebrows in thought. “No, he’s seemed pretty normal to me. Why?”

“He’s been avoiding me for the last few weeks,” Lance laments. “I was wondering if it was everyone or just me.” He tries to keep the hurt out of his voice as he adds, “I guess it is just me.”

“Did something happen between you two?”

Lance bites his lip. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I thought--” Lance knows he has to choose his words carefully, but he used to tell Hunk everything and the fact that he’s been keeping a secret for so long hits him like a punch to the gut. “I thought he and I were getting closer, but since that fight a couple weeks ago on the Galra outpost when I--when I ended up in the cryopod, he won’t even talk to me.”

“Hmm.” Hunk starts to unwrap his wrists. The fabric leaves creases in his skin. “He doesn’t seem the type to be so emasculated by this kind of thing, but maybe it hurt his pride when you took that blaster shot, you know? He was always kind of on his own before Voltron--maybe he doesn’t like being saved.”

Lance chews his lip. He passes Hunk his water bottle without saying anything.

“Or maybe he just feels bad about it, you know?” Hunk continues. “It’s not really a secret that the Galra found us because of him, but--we’ve all made mistakes like that. Two days ago I literally almost sold Pidge to a Galra sympathizer for faulty intel.” He leaves the first length of fabric in a pile and moves to his other wrist. “But that’s the reason Voltron has five paladins instead of one--we’re a team, and we catch each other’s mistakes.”

Lance rubs the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, but most of the time the team doesn’t end up with holes the size of a bayard in their stomachs,” he grumbles.

“Oh,” his friend says. “He really hasn’t talked to you. Like, at all.”

“No. Even in training or fights, he does anything he can to make sure he’s as far away from me as he can, and I--I hate it.” Lance turns away from Hunk, and adds angrily, “I miss him.”

Hunk breathes out through his nose, thinking over his words. “That does sound pretty shitty. I can go talk to him, if you want--see what’s up with him.”

“No,” Lance growls. He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say, or why he thought talking to Hunk would do any good--nothing he does makes any sense anymore, and even when he thinks it does he just makes everything worse.

Lance hits his head on the wall behind him, cursing his own stupidity. “Fuck.”

“Lance?”

“I wish I hadn’t taken that shot for Keith.”

There’s a moment of tense silence before Hunk speaks. “You do?”

“Yeah.” Lance slams his head back again. He’s probably going to give himself a headache. “No. I want to.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, and Hunk put a hand on his forearm.

“And that’s the worst part, isn’t it?” Lance continues. “As much as I want to regret it, for all the physical, emotional, psychological--whatever--pain it’s caused me, I still can’t bring myself to actually wish it’d been Keith that went through what I did.”

“So…”

“I regret it in, like, a symbolic kind of way. I guess. I don’t know.” He opens his eyes and stares across the training room, forcing down the tears that burn in his eyes. “Because I thought--I was thinking that maybe--I don’t know. I just want things to go back to the way they were before all this.”

Fragment 3: It had to be cut for chapter length reasons, but I had a whole scene written out in which Lance makes a friend on one of the planets he visits alone after Team Voltron does the diplomacy thing. Circa chapter 11.

The meeting, of course, goes off without a hitch. The sentient creatures on this planet have already heard about the wonders of Voltron from the nearby--well, as nearby as things get in space--Balmerans, so they are eager to sign onto the treaty as soon as it’s presented to them. Once it’s signed, Allura breaks off to mingle with the president--or at least, ‘president’ is the most accurate approximation his suit’s translation system can make--and Hunk bids his farewell and makes his way back to Yellow in order to go see Shay.

Which leaves Lance on his own to do as he pleases.

Finally.

It’s never a small event, the arrival of Voltron. They’ve had a few instances where the crowds that greet them are angry, but for the most part the people are excited that the legend has returned with the promise of new hope. On this particular planet, they’ve been planning some sort of festival since Allura first got in contact with them.

There are vendors set up in rows along what Lance assumes is their main street, hawking their wares and spreading information about programs and services they offer. Lance sees an after-school club, a mechanic, and a food cart all in a row.

For the first few minutes, he leaves his helmet on, and the letters on the signs rearrange themselves into words he can read. But that makes him unapproachable, he’s found, and if he wants anything he can just ask and his space suit will translate the vendors’ words for him. So Lance pries the helmet from his head--after double and triple checking that the atmosphere is safe for him to breathe--and feels the light of the blue suns on the back of his head. One of them must be setting, and the changes in the light without the filter of his visor are beautiful enough that he stops in his tracks to look up at the sky.

“You look like you’ve never seen the rise of the summer sun before,” a voice to his left says.

“Sunrise?” Lance whispers to himself, and steps out of the way of the foot traffic toward the voice. “I can’t say I have.”

“You’re not from around here, that much is for sure.” They lean against the pole supporting one of the pop-up shops. “Five arnish says you’re one of the paladins of Voltron.”

Lance puts on his most winning smile, which he’s discovered truly is a universal sign of good will. “You’ve caught me. I’ve got no arnish to pay you in, though--just the pleasure of my company.”

The alien laughs. “Let’s get away from this crowd, paladin. My name is Adjiki.”

Lance falls into easy step beside the being. They’re a tall biped with broad shoulders and only one set of arms--a disappointment to say the least, but he supposes he’s not one to talk--and a higher, softer voice than his own. Their skin is a shade of orange that reminds Lance of circus peanuts, and all five of their eyes are the same solid blue as the summer sun.

“And I’m Lance,” he supplies. “So what brings you to the capital--are you from here, or did you come for the festivities?”

Adjiki thinks on the question. “I live just outside of the city, but my work takes me around our planet. So both, really.”

“Well, I’m definitely here for the party,” says Lance. Adjiki leads them down a side street and into less crowded plaza.

The alien pauses and looks around. “Where would you like to go?” they ask.

Lance chews on his lip. “Someplace with nice outdoor seating. I could look at the sunrise for hours--and I have to be back to my team soon, so I don’t want to waste a second.”

Adjiki looks to be processing his words, and for good reason--most of the aliens he meets get the wrong idea at first. In space, sexual encounters are far from taboo, and it’s even common practice to enjoy the company of many different species if one is so inclined. But Lance doesn’t really care to fuck unfamiliar aliens, and usually as soon as that become apparent, the topic passes and they spend some time just talking.

“I know a great restaurant a few streets over. Great view down the hill at the sun, too. My treat.”

Lance feels himself smile. He doesn’t normally find someone to talk to so quickly. “Sounds great.”

Adjiki is something of a diplomat, he learns. There are a few different governments across this world, though not nearly so many as on Earth. They have a long-running on-and-off relationship with two of their friends from school, and while Adjiki wants to tie their lives together, they haven’t yet had the courage to tell their partners so.

Lance finds it easiest to talk to complete strangers. There’s something about not knowing how long he’s going to be seeing the other members of team Voltron for almost all of his waking hours that makes him hesitant to open up to them. If he were to tell Hunk or Shiro of his fears about when they’ll get back home--if they will--or his dangerous feelings for the red paladin, then that confession would follow him everywhere.

With strangers, though, he knows he’ll probably never see them again. It’s so freeing to tell them everything, like the weight of the universe is being lifted from his shoulders, as cliché as that sounds. And it feels so fucking good to let it all out.

“So this ‘Keith’,” Adjiki says. They swirl their drink around in their glass and take another sip, though the effects of it are already turning their cheeks a rust color. “He has no idea that you have romantic feelings for him?”

“No. He’s the most oblivious man I’ve ever met.”

Adjiki raises three of their eyebrows at him. “So why don’t you just… tell him?”

“If I tell him and it makes things weird between us, it would destroy the cohesion of team Voltron, and we can’t--we can’t afford that with the universe at stake.”

“Do you not think that with the universe at stake, you would be able to put aside this ‘weirdness’ while in battle?” Adjiki sets down their drink. “I think that you, at least, already feel weird around him. It would not be much different.”

Lance takes a deep breath. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because--” Lance stops, bracing himself, and looks out to the sunrise. “Because I’m scared of what will happen if I do.”

The alien waits patiently for him to continue.

“If he doesn’t like me back, then this thing that we have--”

“Where you repeatedly engage in sexual activity under the guise that neither of you have romantic feelings for each other.”

“Yes, that thing. It’ll be over if I tell him.”

Adjiki regards him coolly. “You are very young to have all of this to deal with. Being a paladin of Voltron, and the rest of it.”

“Technically, I’m considered an adult back on Earth.” Lance shrugs. He knows he’ll have to return to the castleship soon.  “But I guess most people my age are worried about college and finding a job and stuff. Not saving the universe.”

“I will make a deal with you, Lance, blue paladin of Voltron,” says Adjiki. “I will tell my partners of my desire to share our life bonds if you tell yours that you care for him.”

Lance leans back in his chair. The blue sunrise continues to wash everything in a melancholy sort of color, and he vows to come back to this planet one day to watch the summer sun set.

“Sure,” Lance says finally, standing. “Yeah, I’ll take that deal.”

___

He’s really planning on doing it, at first. Telling Keith how he feels, that is.

But then Keith comes to him after the others are asleep, all brooding and not asking what he got up to on the planet today even though he clearly wants to. He comes in with his hair in a low ponytail and his voice all quiet and rumbling, saying things that make Lance’s heart rate rise while his hands linger just a little too long on his skin.

“You were gone for quite a while today,” he purrs.

Fragment 4: Once again, pacing and chapter length reasons led me to cut out this section. This was going to be the start of chapter 12, in which Shiro is missing and Keith gets mean in his grief/obsession with finding his brother.

“I’m not in the mood, Lance.”

Keith shoves Lance’s hands away and doesn’t even look up from the scanners, movements just as sharp as his words. Maybe at any other time, Lance would be offended that his attempted hug was scorned, but for now--well, he can’t say he didn’t expect this.

He keeps his voice low and calm when he replies, “I’m not asking you to be. I just came to check up on you.”

“I have work to do. You’re bothering me.” He spares Lance a single leave-me-alone look and goes back to whatever pointless, obsessive thing he was doing before.

To say that things between him and Keith--or, really, anyone and Keith--have been tense since Shiro disappeared would be an understatement. As the days and weeks have gone by, he’s only gotten more standoffish and isolated himself from the rest of the team.

So, yeah. Lance is worried about him.

“Keith, please, this isn’t healthy,” he says. “You’re not taking care of yourself.”

And indeed, the other paladin looks terrible. His skin is hollow, the bags under his eyes dark enough to make him look bruised. It’s been days since he showered, and Hunk confided in Lance that Keith’s eating patterns have been erratic at best. Allura says that when he’s not in the control room or in a cruiser searching for their lost team member, he’s in the training room, and even Pidge agrees that that doesn’t leave nearly enough time for sleep.

“This isn’t about me. This is about Shiro. And if no one else is going to look for him, I will.”

“Treating yourself like this isn’t going to help us find Shiro any faster. Please, Keith. Take a break.”

Keith turns on him then, fire in his eyes. “Take a break?” he demands. “You want me to take a fucking break, when we have no idea what he’s going through? With every minute that passes, he could be going through interrogation, torture--anything! They could be making him fight in the ring again, Lance, and he--he doesn’t deserve to go through that again.”

For just a moment, his hard resolve breaks and Lance sees the mess he is underneath.

“I know.” He searches for words. This isn’t going at all how he planned. “And we’ll keep looking for him. But--he wouldn’t want to see you like this, Keith. Please, at least come shower. I’ll even wash your hair for you.”

He doesn’t mean for the words to come off as suggestive. Really, he doesn’t.

Keith scoffs and looks back at his screen. “I already said I’m not in the mood.”

“I wasn’t trying to--you know what, nevermind. Just--whatever.” Lance shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and pulls out the juice pouches and snacks he brought with him. He throws them at Keith because, yeah, the whole not-getting-offended thing isn’t working out as well as he planned. “Eat some goddamn crackers and wallow, then. See if I care.”

Lance storms off.

Unfortunately for him, he does care.

***

Things only get worse the longer that Shiro’s gone.

Keith gets angrier.

Lance tries to make him feel better.

Keith says nastier things to push him away.

No one really knows what to do. They still have a universe to defend, after all--but at what point do they accept that Shiro is probably gone for good?

Fragment 5: And now, the final piece, in which I was going to write another chapter while they were stuck in the lions on their way back to Earth, but didn’t finish it before season 7 came out. This is practically a full chapter, though, and entirely fluff.

The next planet they set down on is inhabited.

It’s not a planet, really, and more of an outpost. They have food to buy—Allura was smart enough to empty out the Castle’s monetary reserves before they abandoned it—and supplies to restock, so it seems like as good a place as any to do so. At face value, the place looks pretty straight-laced, but seeing as they arrive at midday, that doesn’t mean much. As the hours pass, Lance watches as the other side of the city comes to life.

They rent rooms for the night, because it’s been weeks since any of them have had a proper bed to sleep on, and the rate is cheap for a quality room. There are two beds in each, so they take up almost a full floor with their five rooms. Coran is the only one who gets a room to himself, but he snores so the rest of them are okay with that. There’s even a stable for their animals, which makes Lance feel like they’re in an old western movie, except in outer space with wildly high-tech gadgets.

They accomplish all their errands before the sun goes down. There’s a lounge area at the inn they’re staying at, and the nine of them gather in it, at a loss for what to do. They don’t have much for downtime nowadays—really, for the past few years—so it’s a strange feeling. Lance let himself spend a few extra minutes in the shower, kind of hoping Keith would hop in with him, but mostly just enjoying the feeling of hot water running over his skin and cleansing him of weeks of travel. Now he’s in his jeans and t-shirt, and for once he’s glad by how worn they are because it makes them soft and so, so comfortable after his armor.

“Do they have, like, board games?” Pidge asks. “Or a copy of Monsters and Mana?”

Coran scans the shelves around them. “I’m afraid not, Number Five.”

And then it’s Hunk, of all people, that says it: “Let’s go out tonight.”

Krolia blinks at him. “Out?”

“Yeah,” Hunk says. As he speaks, Lance watches him get more into the idea, and it’s infectious. “I saw a club a little ways down the road, and you get a discount for groups of eight or more.”

Lance grins at him, ear to ear. This is the kind of content Lance wholeheartedly subscribes to. “Hunk, I’ve said this before, but you’re a genius.”

“Oh, that would be delightful,” Romelle agrees, halfway through braiding part of her hair. The blue markings on her cheeks flash.

Allura frowns, considering. “I don’t know…”

“Think of it, Princess,” Coran interjects. “All of us, out celebrating being alive. You know, I was a very talented dancer as a young man, and I could teach all of you some of my signature moves.”

Behind him, Pidge holds back a laugh. They elbow Shiro. “It would be great team bonding, you now.”

Allura and Shiro look at each other across the room, and seem to come to an agreement.

“Alright,” says Allura. “We’ve earned a night off, that’s for certain.”

“Yes!” Hunk and Lance say at the same time.

“I’m ready to leave, like, now,” Lance continues, already standing up from his chair and stretching his arms above his head. “Who’s coming with?”

“Me!” says Pidge, shooting up from their chair. Hunk follows their lead and stands, and the rest of the group does the same with varying degrees of excitement. Lance meets Keith’s eyes and winks at him. Keith narrows his eyes in response, and that’s how Lance knows he’s suppressing a smile.

The club is all multi-colored lights and deep-thrumming basslines. Some things, it seems, are universal, and dance clubs are one of them. None of the music is familiar, per se, but the beat is heavy and calls to Lance. While they wait in line, he pulls Hunk into a half-dance with him. It’s like he’s incapable of keeping his feet and his hips still, because the music has taken him over.

“I wonder if they have Nunvill,” Coran says. His body is twitching, too, and Lance thinks that this might be a preview of his dancing for the evening. “I have been craving some lately. But stop me after I’ve had three, because four-Nunvill Coran is a bit feisty. I’ve been thrown out of several fine establishments, I won’t deny it.”

Lance and Hunk share a look.

“I’ll keep an eye on you,” Shiro says. “I won’t be having anything to drink, anyway.”

Pidge perks up. “Drinking?”

“You won’t, either,” Shiro says without hesitation, in his best dad-voice. “You’re not old enough to drink.”

“But somehow I’m old enough to risk my life defending the universe?”

Shiro scowls. “Fine. But you have to take it slow.”

“Yes!” Pidge pumps their fist in the air. “I brought one of my portable scanners, so we can check the drinks for any human toxins, and the alcohol content.”

Lance high-fives Pidge, and feels his own excitement buzzing. He hadn’t even considered drinking. For a lot of reasons, he grew up knowing that breaking the law is not something he should do. Rules are a bit more of a gray area, but the law is not something for him to mess with. So the only time he’s had a drink is the night their family was celebrating his mami’s new promotion and his papi offered him a beer.

They reach the front of the line, and Allura hands over the appropriate number of GACs to gain entrance for the nine of them. Inside, the club pulses with lights and the deep pulse of the music hits Lance like a wall. It vibrates in his chest, takes over his body like it didn’t outside, and it’s with a kind of ache that he realizes how much he’s missed dancing. The tension seeps out of his muscles and is replaced by happiness.

He lags several steps behind Keith as they walk to the bar, so that he can watch the other man’s body. It’s purely for research purposes, of course, because he wants to get a sense of whether Keith is any kind of dancer, or if he’s going to be stiff as a board all night. It takes a few seconds of hard scrutiny, but—yes, there it is—he finds the barest trace of an intention to his footfalls, a sway to his hips.

Lance grins. His prospects for the evening just got a whole lot better.

Shiro limits them all to one drink to start out, and Pidge scans everything they order. When it’s deemed safe, Lance takes a tentative sip of his drink. It’s thick and lemony, with only a hint of bite to tell him it’s alcoholic.

He and Hunk share a glance, and with how well they know each other it’s an entire conversation. Hunk nods to him and drags Pidge, who is holding a bottle of something green, off to join Romelle and Allura on the dance floor. Coran is long gone, and Krolia and Shiro look content to stay at the bar, so Lance has his opening.

“Can I try your drink?” he asks Keith, using the loud music around them as an excuse to lean in close. They’re a few paces down from Krolia and Shiro. “You can taste mine.”

“Um—sure,” Keith says, and hands over his cup. When he brings Lance’s glass to his lips and takes a sip, his eyebrows shoot up. “This is good.”

“You think so?” Lance sniffs Keith’s drink and he can already smell its potency, but he’s not surprised because there isn’t much in the glass. It’s basically a shot.

“Yeah,” Keith agrees, and takes another drink.

“You can have it if you want,” Lance says impulsively. “We can trade.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

To show his commitment, Lance tips his head back and swallows all of Keith’s drink. He has to fight the grimace that pulls at his lips, and forces a smile instead.

Keith grins back, and Lance takes the opportunity to sidle in close and bump him with his hips. “Let’s dance,” he says.

Hesitation flashes in Keith’s eyes—or maybe it’s just the lights—but then he nods. “I’m not very good,” Keith says like it’s an apology. His gaze drifts down Lance’s body, and he realizes that he’s still moving. He didn’t even notice, but Keith obviously has.

“You don’t have to be,” Lance assures him. “You have me.”

They find a place on the dance floor, away from the rest of the group. The press of bodies around them nudges them closer together, until their chests brush in time with the music and Lance can pick out Keith’s smell over the rest of them in the room.

The music engulfs him. He steps side to side and rolls his body, twists it, does whatever the sound pounding in his ears tells him to do. He relishes in it, being able to relinquish control to the music so entirely. With as long as it’s been since they’ve had a day off… Allura’s right. They really do deserve to enjoy themselves tonight.

Lance rests his hands on Keith’s hips and convinces them to move more smoothly. “God, I hate that you’re taller than me now,” he says. It’s one of those thoughts that pops into his head and, normally, does not make it past his lips. But the alcohol has found his head now and taken up residence there, making him feel light and bouncy. It’s the kind of tenant that takes up too much space and shoves things like self control and common sense out of the way.

Keith laughs and takes a step in closer to Lance, dangerously close to pressing their bodies together. Lance looks up at him in surprise and finds Keith’s face only inches from him. Lights of all colors dance across Keith’s face, making his expression inscrutable, and the urge to kiss him rises unbidden in Lance’s throat. They are in public, after all, and kissing him in front of other people ventures too close to “dating” territory, where they most certainly are not.

So Lance does the only logical thing. He snatches the glass from Keith’s hand and downs everything that remains.

“Hey!” Keith says, grabbing the drink back from Lance moments too late. Lance gives him a shit-eating grin as a consolation prize, to which Keith narrows his eyes. “Asshole.”

Lance shrugs and dances in a circle. “Maybe so.”

He sets Keith’s glass on a tray as it floats by, and Keith glances back over at the bar. Shiro and Krolia are talking, and Keith starts in their direction.

Lance catches his shoulder with less grace than he would have if he were sober. “Don’t go get another one yet,” he says. “Then Shiro will know I had two.”

The raised eyebrow Keith gives him is, honestly, impressive. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you drank both of our drinks.”

For that, Keith receives a set of finger guns. So, yeah, Lance is feeling those drinks, and it’s delightful.

“I’ll just tell him I’m 21 and I can have as many drinks as I want,” Keith says, and holds out his arm for Lance to hold onto before they elbow their way through the crowd.

“You’re smart,” Lance says, feeling the way the alcohol clings to his words and makes them more rounded and blunt than usual. “Stick it to the man. Don’t take none of his shit.”

“I think these drinks are stronger than Pidge is letting on,” Keith observes, casting an appraising glance in Lance’s direction.

Lance wrinkles his nose. “Are they?”

Keith doesn’t answer. They’ve arrived at the bar, about ten feet down from where Krolia and Shiro are chatting, and Keith orders another shot-sized drink.

“You’re not even getting a fun one?” demands Lance.

“I’m going for efficiency here,” Keith says. Then he knocks back the shot and sets the glass back down on the counter. Lance imagines the hollow thunk it would have made if he could hear it over the music.

“Tough guy,” Lance chides.

He drags Keith easily back out onto the dance floor, and he can tell the instant that the alcohol hits Keith’s brain, or wherever it goes when it makes you all floaty and not worried about anything anymore. His movements loosen and he doesn’t seem so worried what everyone around them thinks of two humans dancing so closely together. The only people that would have cared anyway are their friends, and Hunk has been kind enough to keep them all on the other side of the dance floor.

So Lance and Keith dance, bodies pressed together and hands roaming over each other’s skin and clothes until Lance feels a familiar and not unwelcome ache between his thighs. A quick glance between his body and Keith’s confirms that Keith is feeling it too. They dance for a while longer, letting the heat between them build and the spinning in their heads keep them aloft. Lance gets less and less cautious with his hands, dragging his fingers up the back of Keith’s thighs and his touch underneath the fabric of his shirt. Keith does the same.

Eventually, they decide that they’ve had enough of this particular kind of dancing.

“Back to the hotel?” Lance says into Keith’s ear, because he wouldn’t have heard him any farther away.

Keith nods and says what Lance guesses is, “Yeah,” and then they push through the crowd to the exit.

Outside, the air is crisp and the quiet is deafening. Lance’s ears ring and his footsteps feel unsteady without the press of bodies to keep him upright. The alcohol may be working its way out of his bloodstream by now, but it’s far from gone.

“I’ll text Hunk,” Lance announces, pulling up the direct message line between himself and his best friend on his wrist communicator. “An’ tell him we had to go home because we’re drunk.” He talks aloud as he types with imprecise motions. “Have fun at the club budddy me n keith r going home because were drunk. Do not worry aboutt us.”

Once he hits send, he wraps his arm around Keith’s waist and pulls him close for the short walk back to the hotel. The road is well-lit, and out of the flashing lights of the club, Lance sees the deep flush across Keith’s cheeks. Some of it, he knows, is from the alcohol, but the rest of it, he also knows, is from desire. He can feel his own pulsing beneath his skin, begging to be let out.

He’s thankful yet again that no one raised questions when he and Keith claimed a room together earlier in the night. It saves them any headache of worrying about being walked in on, or blocking their roommates when they got home later in the evening. Without that to preoccupy him, Lance can focus entirely on Keith.

Inside the room, they don’t even make it to the bed before their hands are on each other. From the moment the door is closed Keith has him pressed up against the wall and is kissing him so hard the Lance lets out a low, involuntary whine. He slides one knee between Keith’s legs and pulls him closer, shoving his hands beneath Keith’s shirt and trying to rip it up over his head.

Keith gets the idea and finishes the job for him, then helps Lance with his shirt. Both their bodies are still slick with sweat from all their dancing, and heat radiates from Keith’s skin. Lance kisses across his jaw and down his neck, biting down at his collarbone and squeezing a fistfull of Keith’s ass when he moans.

“Lance, shouldn’t we,” Keith starts, but has to take a few short breaths before he can continue. “Shouldn’t we have a conversation about consent because we’re both inebriated?”

“Can it be a short conversation?”

“Probably.”

“I trust you,” Lance says, using every piece of his willpower to keep his hands in one place for the duration of their attempted serious conversation. “If I want to stop at any point I still trust you to stop. And if I fall asleep, or whatever. Just like normal. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Keith agrees. The effort it takes him to speak clearly is evident by the speed of his words and the obvious focus it’s taking him to make them. He’s so close to Lance that he sees individual beads of sweat on his skin, begging to be licked away. “But I need to know you’re not going to let me do anything you wouldn’t let me do if you were sober.”

“All the normals rules apply,” says Lance. “And it goes both ways. I don’t want to take advantage of you, either.”

He doesn’t mention that he feels like he’s taking advantage of Keith always, by not telling him how he really feels and letting Keith believe that he thinks of this in the emotionless, functional way that Keith does. It’s dishonest, yes, but that particular dishonesty is unchanged from any of their sober sex, so he feels justified in leaving it out of this particular conversation.

“Okay,” Keith says.

“Okay,” Lance repeats.

Their eyes meet. Lance takes one deep breath.

Then they’re kissing again.

Lance’s pants drop to the ground with little ceremony, and Keith’s follow shortly after. There are two beds in the room but they only need one, and Keith lands on his back on whichever of them is closest before Lance climbs on top of him.

He nips at Keith’s ear and says, in his most sultry voice, “I’ll ride you.”

Keith’s breath hitches, and that’s all the answer he needs.

Hope you enjoyed :)

#my post #my writing #klance smut #rivals with benefits #rwb

[thenewvoltron]

WHAT IS THIS?

This is a Voltron: Legendary Defender AU/Reboot that’s completely fan made. 

WHAT FORM WILL IT TAKE?

It will have multiple forms happening at once. We’re starting with prose (a fic, basically), then, if we have enough interest and people who want to participate, we’ll do a podcast. 

But mostly prepare for a lot of writing/art and comics that all tie in together.

HOW MUCH WILL IT COST?

It’s free! It always will be! We will never ask for your money, and if someone does ask for your money for a reboot, block and report, because it is a SCAM. We know there’s lots of talks about reboots and that’s fun! But please please be wary of any kickstarters! Be careful with your money!!

SPEAKING OF OTHER PROJECTS, AREN'T THERE A LOT OF THEM?

We support all reboots, fix-its, and fan made content. You guys rock! Check out our reboots page for a list!

WHAT'S THE POINT?

It’s fun.

WILL THE ORIGINAL PALADINS STILL BE THE PALADINS?

Yes! Hunk, Lance, Shiro, Allura, Keith, and Pidge are still the focus of Voltron New Age. They’ll still be familiar to you, but they’ll be a little different, too. Mostly, you’ll learn a lot more about them along the way!

WHAT ABOUT COPYRIGHT?

This is basically just like fanart, fanfic or a zine.

If you want to get picky about it: this project is definitely legally iffy. DreamWorks owns the rights to Voltron.

If by some crazy miracle the DW staff even bothered to notice us (extremely unlikely, they got better things to do), we could get sent a “cease and desist.” It’s an official document that says “Hey, you’re infringing upon us, please stop.” If we stop after we are ceased and desisted, then we’re a-okay.

Honestly, if that happens, I’d throw a party because it’s a big win. That would mean we got on DW’s radar, and that they would actually care enough to try to shut us down.

CAN I BE A WRITER/SCREENWRITER/STAFF, ECT?

We are looking for staff people but we are being picky, because while this is just for fun, it will take some commitment to work together. We don’t have an official process right now, but will let you know when we do. The best way to get involved is to join the discord.

If you have any questions, you can email [email protected]

CAN I BE AN ARTIST?

We are actively looking for more artists! Especially a mecha artist!

Email  [email protected] for more info.

CAN I BE A VA?

First of all, that’s a long way off. Second of all, sending anonymous asks about it is useless. We can’t respond to you if we don’t know who you are. And if you’ll notice further up in the FAQ, you’ll see that if we even do that, it’s a long ways off. The best thing to do is just get involved in the discord.

SHIPS? SHIPS? SHIPS? SHIPS? SHIPS?

Voltron New Age is not a rewrite for ships. We are not writing a Voltron specifically so a ship can be canon, we’re writing it because it’s a fun story to tell with a lot of untapped potential. That being said, pairings will happen, and we are committed to bringing you honest, real, and diverse, LGBT+ content. We will never Bury the Gays.

We are in a really unique position of creating something within an already established fandom, so we haven’t yet decided how to handle questions about ships, because we don’t want to get into too many spoilers before the actual content comes out. We want the relationships featured in Voltron New Age to happen organically, and we also don’t want ships to be the only focus.

#faq

[velkynkarma]

Oooh for the ask meme how about all for Routine Maintenance??

All? Right, then. *cracks knuckles* Routine Maintenance it is! There’s a lot of questions, so most answers will be under the cut. Got a question about a fic? Ask!

1. What inspired this fic?I had just gotten into the Voltron fandom the month before and spent most of that time greedily digging through the archive for anything gen (there wasn’t a lot of it). I found some good gems, but the one thing I really wanted to see and hadn’t was a story about Shiro dealing with his prosthetic arm. There were plenty that covered the “mind control” style story-line, or dug into the angsty flashbacks of how he got it in the first place, but none of them went into ongoing day-to-day life of just...having an alien prosthetic forcibly attached to you. You know what they say--if it doesn’t exist, make it yourself! So that’s what I did.

2. Where did the title come from?It came specifically from Hunk’s part of the story (which was first), all about literally maintaining Shiro’s arm and teaching him routines for it. It’s also a phrase. And it seemed to fit!3. What part was most difficult?Probably any emotional moment in the fic (most notably in chapter 6). I can do medical research, I can write action, but bringing in feelings is just hard.4. What are you most proud of?A lot of little things, really. I like the painterly descriptions of Lance’s chapter. I like how I managed to convey phantom pains in Pidge’s chapter. That entire last chapter was just a behemoth to organize but I think it came out really well. 5. What do you like best about this fic?I like the overall concept. Even as far back as S1 we knew Shiro was a character with a disability, who lives with it but doesn’t let it stop him, but nobody ever really explored it. I’ve had people thank me since writing it because they had something to relate to, and I’m glad I was able to do the theme justice.

6. What do you like least about this fic?That it’s still the one I’m known for the most. Routine Maintenance was my first foray into the fandom and was written almost 2 years ago now. I’ve learned a lot since about both the characters and about writing, and on a reread there are parts of it that feel weak. I have much stronger fics that have much better defined themes since, but Routine Maintenance is still usually they one I’m known for.7. What’s a reference you’ve made that no one has picked up on yet?Honestly, I don’t think there are any, if we’re talking non-Voltron media references. I tend to avoid things like calling out movies, books, comics, etc when writing fanfiction, since it can sometimes alienate viewers who haven’t engaged with that other material. 8. What’s a bit that sums up your take on a character?From the last chapter of Routine Maintenance:

He’s never been more proud of any of them. And he’s not going to let them down, not now. As frayed and on edge and exhausted and in pain as he is for all the same reasons, they’re looking to him now more than ever for stability and support. Their entire world has just been violently smashed into the ground and thrown upside down like the shipwreck that had taken them there, and Shiro is just about the only thing they have left to cling to so they can try and stay standing. He’ll hold on for their sakes until they’ve regained their own footing. He owes them that much. So he stands guard over them, in a very literal sense. What’s left of his right arm his throbbing, his ribs protest, his head hurts, and his whole body aches with soreness and fatigue, but he refuses to sit, not even when Hunk begs him to take a break. He stands guard over his fallen crew members, ever vigilant, keeping an eye on the odd colored trees and the Galra wreckage. If an enemy comes he is their only real line of defense, and he does not intend to let anything hurt his crew further than they’ve already been hurt. Most important of all, no matter how scared he is for all of them, he maintains his outwardly calm and controlled appearance. He talks as normally as possible to Hunk and Lance, repeatedly reassuring them every time they start to look more nervous or afraid. He checks on Keith and Pidge regularly, and despite his growing concerns when neither wakes, and when Keith grows steadily paler, he keeps his expression neutral. And inwardly, the entire time, he begs, please let them live. Please let them all make it out of here okay. Please don’t let me lose one of them again.

Honestly, I feel this sums up Shiro in a nutshell, even now several seasons later. Shiro’s exactly the type to hold himself together and project outward confidence and control no matter how badly he’s falling apart inside. Most of the actual fic is about him getting caught in this and the others helping him, but when they need that support, he’s going to give it. 9. Favorite line(s) of dialogue? Two years later I’m still stupidly pleased with the pun I slipped into the middle of a dramatic situation in the last chapter:

Lance shudders at the words, and his hand tightens on Shiro’s. “But if…if it isn’t—I can’t—I can’t be a paladin without—I can’t even go home like this—““Shhh. Lance, calm down. Listen, even if it does come to that, and I’m not saying it has, it’s going to be okay. There’s no way in hell any of us would leave the leg of Voltron without a leg to stand on, okay?”Lance’s lips actually twitch slightly at the wordplay that he might have enjoyed more in any other circumstance. Shiro suspects it’s a shock-fueled, scared smile more than anything else. “R…right.”

Honestly it’s always the first line I think of, even if I know there’s more serious conversations and good dialogue elsewhere in the fic. I still just think of Shiro making a dumb joke to calm Lance down about the horrible thought that he may have just lost a leg.10. Favorite line(s) of prose?Lance wins out on this one too. My favorite descriptions happen in chapter 2:

But the bitter end’s getting closer. It’s already dark and difficult to see, and his eyes are still stinging in the mineral-crusted water, but he can tell his vision is starting to get blurrier and grayer around the edges. His body tries to force him to breathe again, and he chokes slightly with the effort of not. His right arm is starting to throb at the port from the tugging strain the prosthetic puts on the connection point of his flesh. Spots start to dance in front of his vision, bright streaks that seem to bob through the gloom as they get steadily bigger before his eyes…No, he realizes after a moment. It’s getting harder to think, harder to focus, due to the lack of air, but he comes to the baffling realization that those spots aren’t actually spots at all. It’s not his vision failing due to a lack of oxygen; there’s really something moving through the water, coming towards him from above, trailing teal streaks through the gloom. At first his thoughts conjure hazy visions of phosphorescent fish he’s seen in documentaries and aquariums, and it takes his weakening mind a precious long time to remember he’s not on Earth anymore, and he doesn’t remember seeing any wildlife like that so far. It takes him even longer to make out the white patches through the murky darkness of the ocean, dulled to a more grayish color in the near lightless water, but after a moment he’s able to make the connection—teal light strips and white patches. Paladin armor. It takes him longer to make out the color, because the blue melds so well into the ocean. Lance is only a few feet away before Shiro recognizes him, largely in part due to the way the helmet’s mask lights up his face just slightly in the darkness. 

I honestly just loved the entire description of Lance just appearing out of the gloom of the dark water and Shiro taking a while to realize what he’s seeing because he’s so close to passing out. This entire scene had a very painterly feel in my head and I loved trying to transition that to prose. 11. Where there any points where you were trying to do something specific with sound, vocabulary, or rhythm? I’m basically always doing this--that’s my writing style. I did have fun with vocab/rhythm in Pidge’s chapter, though, specifically with the phantom pains. Shiro describes trying to clench and unclench his hand a lot, but I deliberately kept from making it clear it’s due to phantom pains at first. I wanted to make it confusing on purpose, since by all accounts it’s confusing in real life, so I didn’t want to draw a distinct line between Shiro recognizing his metal hand was different than the phantom hand that’s all in his head. The reader should end up understanding what’s really happening at the same time that Pidge does as a result, even though the story is from Shiro’s PoV. The same thing later too, when trying to describe the sensation of fixing the problem.12. Imagery that is important to the fic, either while composing or in the fic itself? Again, imagery is always big for my writing style, and there’s too much in the fic to go into the details. How about we talk imagery themes instead? Several readers have noticed that Shiro rescues everyone in chapter 6 in the same order they help him in chapters 1-5. What less people notice is how each of the ways they help Shiro are also reflected in counter-point in the way he saves them:

Hunk helps him with a non-functional arm that was full of sand and grit while Shiro can barely move it. Shiro later frees Hunk with an arm that is still able to function despite having been impaled, while Hunk himself can’t move.

Lance reaches out to Shiro in an unreachable location and the first way Shiro recognizes him is by the lights on his armor. Shiro later finds Lance by the same lights, and reaches him in an unreachable location in turn. The arm that dragged him down is now the only thing that can lift up the weights now dragging Lance down.

Pidge helps Shiro with his phantom pains, by providing a solution that’s so simple and so close, and yet so far away. Later on, Shiro has the same problem rescuing her: she’s just out of reach, and just beyond his range of senses to be able to tell if she’s alive or not. He even tries to use a different arm (in this case, directing Lance’s) to solve the problem, to no avail.

Pidge actually has a second subtler one too: during her chapter Shiro recognizes he can’t actually feel or register his Galra arm as ‘his’ and tends to think of it as an object. At the time, it’s disappointing. During the very start of chapter 6, Shiro’s Galra arm is impaled, but he finds it doesn’t really bother him (or hurt him), since it’s just an object, it’s not really his.

Shiro tries to warm both himself and Keith with his Galra arm and warns Keith not to touch it as it will burn him badly, although this doesn’t work. Keith has to help keep him from freezing to death. Shiro later rescues him by using that exact thing he warned Keith about to save him, and it’s an exact parallel from freezing to burning.

13. How many drafts did the work go through?It’s hard to say. I don’t really have separate drafts in the traditional sense. I reworked the outline at least 1-2 times because that’s standard for me, and I probably spent a week editing the final results. But for the most part nothing too much changed. 14. Where you listening to anything while writing the fic? If so, what?Hah, I was listening to the Voltron soundtrack, actually. On repeat. 15. What were you most worried about during the composition? If I was handling disabilities right, and if chapter 6 in particular was a little too bloody for the fandom. With the former, I did plenty of research of course. But since I’m not an amputee nor do I have PTSD, there was always that little voice in the back of my head muttering, “You better hope you’re doing this right.” With the latter....it’s always hard to tell when going into new fandoms how well they’ll handle extreme injuries or wounds. Some fandoms eat it up, and in others it will get your fic basically ignored. I wasn’t really sure where Voltron fell, and chapter 6 does get pretty brutal, between Lance and Pidge being crushed, Lance’s compound fractures, and Keith needing to be cauterized. Keith’s scene in particular I wrote and re-wrote half a dozen times and I was extremely picky about the vocabulary used, because it was a very tricky line to write it in such a way that I was conveying Keith was suffering, but that Shiro wasn’t torturing him and wasn’t happy with the situation either. That meant adding some more emotional comfort aspects, which I am bad at. The whole thing was just a difficult mess and I basically wasn’t sure about it right up until the point I actually got comments talking about those scenes specifically. 16. If you used a beta, what did you agree or disagree on?I don’t use a beta, so nothing!17. Did anything surprise you during the writing?It got a lot longer than I initially planned on. Especially that last chapter. This really shouldn’t have come as a surprise though.18. Were there any alternate versions of this fic?Not really alternate, but Parasite Knight was a scrapped concept for the +1 part of the 5+1 idea (originally, with the whole team helping Shiro). But it didn’t seem to fit the theme of the 5+1, since the +1 tends to turn the theme on its head, so I went with the current version and recycled the idea of a soul-eating arm for another fic. Turns out that was a good idea since Parasite Knight turned into a beast of a fic in its own right lol. I did also shuffle a few characters around from their original plans. Before I’d decided a chapter about sinking due to Shiro’s heavy arm was going to be a thing, Lance was actually slated to be the one helping Shiro with frostbite (since his Lion has the whole water/ice connection). But Lance fit better for a drowning theme, and Keith ended up taking over the frostbite theme instead. That never actually started to get written, though.19. Were any parts written under the influence?I don’t drink or do any kind of drugs, so nope. 20. What did you learn from writing this fic?No real writing technicalities. I was able to verify I was handling disabilities well, based on readers’ feedback (something I’m always cautious about if I don’t have any background in the disability in question--I like to treat these situations as respectfully as possible, but sometimes it’s just hard to know if you really are without any scope of understanding). Honestly what I learned the most was that there was a niche in this fandom that I was actually welcome in. Many times I’ll write 1-2 fics in a fandom and that scratches the personal itch. But there’s never really any response from the fandom itself, so I move on to the next interesting thing. But Routine Maintenance had such overwhelming feedback, in a couple cases from some big names in the gen corner of the fandom, that it was encouraging enough to actually make me stick around. And in sticking around, THAT’S where I really learned more technical writing skills. So I guess RM didn’t teach me anything specifically, but it made sure I stuck around enough to learn things anyway. PHEW! That’s a lot of questions! Got a question about a fic? Ask!

#Velkynkarma answers #Velkynkarma memes #Routine Maintenance #Voltron #noisypaintersong

[sp4c3-0ddity]

4, 5, 10, 11, and 18 for Facing Reality!

Fanfic Ask Meme

ooh wasn’t expecting that one!! Link here

(rather long so under a read more)

(4) What are you most proud of?

Does the fact that I wrote a decent chunk of this fic in a moving car count?? (on my laptop though...we drove to Las Vegas for my sister’s percussion competition and i desperately Needed this fic out of my system so i took my laptop with me and wrote on the way there and stayed up late both nights we were there - or did we stay only one night?? - but not on the way back because i kept falling asleep in the car ha ha)

in all seriousness, i’m not sure. i remember it was a prompt from @fromageinterrupted, who i know to love Slav (i think he’s her favorite secondary character), so i kinda tried to confine myself with the parameter that he must be in the fic in some shape or form, and then i arrived at alternate realities, and then i somehow got to what if Pidge and Lance are from different realities??

so, yeah, i guess i’m proud of myself for taking a simple prompt (roommates AU plus “holidays”) and getting an outlandish idea and turning it into domestic angst xD

(5) What do you like best about this fic?

oddly enough, Keith’s surprise appearance!! he wasn’t supposed to be in the fic but then me being, on occasion, evil, i decided it would be a nice bit of angst for Pidge to meet someone (other than Slav) that she “recognized” from her war-torn reality

i also like the tension and the feeling of a deadline, which tbh is kinda a cheap way to add that tension, but i’m writing fan fiction so it doesn’t have to be that deep

also!! it has bookends in that it begins and ends with Lance talking to his family, and i love bookends and cyclical plots (which...might be obvious from some other fic and i can wax poetic about how satisfying cyclical plots/circles for hours)

(10) Favorite line(s) of prose?

I actually had a few candidates for this, but i think this one (although it includes dialogue) sums up what i like about the others as well:

Lance frowned; Pidge didn’t like talking about where she came from, but all the little hints she dropped painted a bleak, if ‘technologically advanced’, picture. No, when she’d first arrived here, she’d been constantly on-edge, as if wary of attack, but quick to dismiss most of his belongings as ‘primitive’.

It was a little disheartening for both of them.

But eventually she relaxed, and one morning he woke to find her sitting on the end of his bed with his computer in her lap:

“What…are you doing?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes, unsure if he imagined the flush in her cheeks.

“I updated your computer,” she said. “It should run better, and though I can’t do much without better hardware, it’s still way faster than it was.”

Lance stared at her uncomprehendingly, decided he hadn’t slept enough to deal with the sight of a nearly strange woman messing with his personal computer, and stuffed his face into his pillow.

it sets up the differences between where they come from (if in a rather vague way) while also creating a very mundane image. plus, you have Pidge trying to repay Lance in some small way...by messing with his computer. to me it gives the impression that they’ve come a long way from when they met (the italicized bit is a flashback), but there’s still some way left to go

honorable mention goes to the fic’s very first paragraph:

Pidge’s eclectic research notes covered every square centimeter inside Lance’s small apartment, making it a minefield to navigate. Yet somehow he managed it, stepping between an assortment of old magic texts and loose journal articles covered in complex equations while he paced, phone in hand while he again explained to his mother.

i dunno, i just love describing the sort of messes Pidge is capable of making, and this was a very vivid image in my head before i started writing the fic

(11) Were there any points where you were trying to do something specific with sound, vocabulary, or rhythm?

hmm...since Pidge is from another reality, i tried to have fun with made-up slang, if that counts:

“That’s really…”

“Buttery?” Pidge suggested.

“Um…what?” Lance said, blinking.

Pidge waved a hand. “You know, when something is very sweet but almost nauseatingly so, it’s buttery.”

“In this reality that would be cheesy,” Lance said, covering his mouth to hide his bubbling laughter.

She eyed him suspiciously. “That doesn’t sound right at all,” she said.

(18) Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

nope!! it’s true that sometimes, especially for prompts, i get an idea that i then scrap either because it’s not working or because i come up with something better, but that wasn’t the case here

#thank you for the questions these were fun!! #qna #reem writes fic #ish #hailqiqi

[what-the-floofin]

Mmmm

How about some meta stuff?

A peek into my thought process/self-supplied-refresher-course on how I’ve chosen to work with the Voltron Lions in writing. Like... something for those curious about the stuff that goes behind the written stuff?

Some pairs I’ve worked with more than others though, so the depth gone to each one varies quite a bit, and it’s probably obvious. But it’s 2000 words of thoughts and considerations if ya interested, with room to grow 

Notes to self on writing with the Lions

The Lions each have their own way of communicating with the paladins. Different flavours of how it feels and the ways they share themselves ought to be shown in text. Make it be a combination of their own chosen self-representation and an adaption to how their current paladins can best understand them.

  - Black -

Poised, collected, leaderly. Her presence is one of confidence and certainty. She does not pass impressions of doubt or reservations, nor does she waffle over the unimportant. When she knows something, she offers it upfront. When she does not know something, she offers it upfront.

Patient and willing to guide, leading as much as she allows to be led. She also knows when to pull back and allow the time and space of unbiased decision, leaving one to conclude their own without the constant press of her input.

 Her ‘talk’ revolves around forward impression. Generally, Black settles for the press of single, clean emotion, primly separated from a muddled mass to avoid confusion. If this cannot cover her intention clearly, she will fill the back of minds with comprehension instead - words guised in the sound of one’s own inner voice, though never in a way that tries to fool them that it isn’t her. She does not hide the fact that these are clearly not their thoughts, she merely uses their language and familiar patterns to create the clearest and most direct path of communication. Her use is very blunt, and holds quite the obvious feeling of ‘not their own’.

I think it’d be relatively safe for Shiro that way – a foreign voice in his head would only serve to alarm and raise his defences. Also, clearly feeling that the presence is not trying to impersonate him would help aid in settling fears of manipulation – of ideas that he’s secretly not in control. Regardless, at first it would not have been entirely pleasant or easy until Black made her intentions on the matter very clear. Then it’d grow to be a secondary voice Shiro could confidently rely on. The communication is matter of fact and to the point, easily taken and easily understood. Quite effective for decision making.

 Her written form lacks descriptive prose. Clean cut and precise. Focused on priorities, with an overall sense that carries an air of noble propriety.

Unless, of course, Black has tossed all sense herself should something have turned so grave. Then she cannot present in anything but ornate prose, vague and messy and everywhere, a storm of noise and agitation. Her forwardness remains – it simply lacks the clear finesse.

 - Blue -

Always moving and rarely still. She encircles and encompasses in a constant gentle swirl, careful not to overwhelm but just as cautious to never seem disinterested. Loving and supportive, striving always to be where she feels she needs to be.

Though while noise and movement is her constant, Blue may retreat from her open-book communication when concentration becomes too rigid. Like the tides pulling in and out, she’s quite capable of maintaining a fluxing state of being.

 Her ‘talk’ revolves around sensation and emotion. Very emotive and decorative in what she pushes across, and not shy on reaching out either. She favours expressions of love and calm to lead her voice, first to assure and last to criticize. Rarely would she speak in circles, wearing her heart on her sleeve and generally maintaining a code of honesty. As for sensation, a lot of her given impressions are, of course, based on the feel of water - be it smooth, bubbly, churning, whirled, heavy, floating. When stressed this may spill into harsher forms – cracking ice, torrential waves, tossing currents etc.

Where most might find her noisy and exhausting, Lance thrives in the constant sensation of ‘chatter’ and knowing she’s always listening. He does, however, need to rely on immediate gut feeling - the more he thinks or lingers over what Blue might mean the less accuracy he’d draw in conclusion. He must be confident that his first thought is the right thought and always keep up with the flow. Receive and let go. Don’t overthink. Getting hung up on one spot slows their communication, for Blue doesn’t hang onto single thoughts for long, and muddles in her efforts to accurately backtrack.

 Her written form feels like a stream of consciousness, descriptive in a way that is less prose-fancy and more akin to finding multiple ways to paint a picture, tell a story, express her motion. She is water, pushing, moving, flowing. Stagnation is not her nature – if at any point it stops it should feel jarring. Keep to a stable beat. Think waterflow around a stone, adaptive and steady.

 - Red -

Fast, sharp, smack on the point, wasting no time on hesitations. Red is emotive and instinctual, and almost harsh in her delivery.

Similar to Blue, her ‘talk’ revolves around sensation and emotion. However, she is a very different flavour. Red is explosive. An assault on the senses, a riddling of phantom touch and taste and highly eruptive emotion. Sharp. Fast. Done. Her communication holds a heavy reliance on imagery and all its attached sensations.

Keith is also emotive and instinctive (even if he’s careful with the first, he has clearly had his outbursts), so in the heat of battle and motion this is a language he reads with perfect clarity, understanding drawn in the span of a heartbeat and reacted to by the next. It makes them a natural force of destruction in piloted flight, actions devised and agreed upon without the utterance of a single word.

In calmer environments Red finds her voice through cherry-picked memory, utilising the trains of thought and feelings associated with them rather than the actual memory topic to make her point. Again, less words, but feeling. It’s a mosaic of emotional fragments taken and spun hot-glass into a new story to convey her intentions. While it is crisp and clear to Keith – for drawing on firsthand experiences makes far more sense to him than digesting some conceptual idea of an emotion he may or may not relate to (and waste time finding how he relates to) – others would find Red’s talk outright confusing. And likely very homesick-inducing.

 Her written form is fast, abrupt, quick paced and physically descriptive. It’s flames and fire and how they feel, specifically targeting touch and taste and smell. An eruption against the senses, quick to overwhelm any who stand unused to it. It’s the response to these sensations in which she aims to use, holding a keen preference on physical experience to explain herself. It may run the habit of accidentally overstimulating the recipient party though, causing confusion between the borders of mind and reality. She is a being of reaction, she does not always think before the leap.

 - Yellow -

Yellow is stability, an ever-lasting fortress of support, the very feeling of unbendable, unbreakable. Very careful and rarely rushed, she is slowly spoken and evenly firm. She tends not to rattle easy, and prefers to follow over taking charge, but is more than capable of stepping up to such a task when required. She can be particularly blunt in her approach though, and has often just slotted herself in without explicit invitation.

 Her ‘talk’ revolves entirely around impression. She lacks the use of defined words and sticks to feeling, a heavy presence upon any mind that opens to her, large but by no means intimidating.

A guardian through and through, she is ever watchful and ready to stabilise disruptions. Should Hunk’s anxieties spike she is there to ground him, to gently steer him on the course and keep him focused. Clarity grows in difficulty with physical distance, but she is always one to try despite it.

 Her written form is steady, lingering. Not so decorative, but strong. Generally draw from a repertoire of words that are easy to digest and understand. It should not feel hefty or overwhelming, for despite her size Yellow is incredibly gentle at heart. It is a fortress meant to provide foundations, a strength that bolsters from the ground up. Even if she has butted her way into contact, the gentleness of her intentions are quick to soothe most of any upset.

 - Green -

Curiosity sculpted into the shape of a lion, Green is a being who needs to know. Her desire for knowledge is nigh insatiable, always keen to improve the ocean of her banked information. Rarely one to cut corners be it a job or an experiment, adamant to discover over avoid. She is a driving force of nature. Fairly level, just knowledge hungry.

 Her ‘talk’ revolves around instilment and physical sensation. Adventurously inquisitive and always analysing, Green tends to send bundles of information at once, bypassing words and skipping straight to the knowing with what knowledge she has to give. It arrives in a veritable dumping of data all thrown at once, and left up to the receiver to recognise as even having and thus sort out - though with a welcome but unspoken invitation to ask for elaboration at any time. She does not dally so much on emotional expression herself, though she is sensitive to reading emotional situations and acting accordingly.  

To receive inherent knowledge of how something works despite having never seen it prior would take some getting used to, but once figured out that it was something her Lion could even do Pidge would appreciate it in full. It’s a format she’s already talented in processing – working in code and all – and as such she’s used to sorting a streaming influx of information. Adaptive and intelligent, deciphering sudden knowledge is entirely up her alley.

Knowledge becomes their fair exchange: Pidge inquires, Green answers. Green inquires, Pidge answers. It is the basis of their communication – ask and know. The downside is that one must first know what to ask.

As for the physical sensation side, Green is one to push and pull minute directions against the mind’s eye body. Phantom touches - a small squeeze of reassurance, an insistent nudge to look over there, or a shove to stop what one is doing. It doesn’t physically move the body, but it certainly feels like it could. It’s a habit less common than her information dumps, and only really used to draw attention to specific points.

 Her written form is pinpointed and frank, deftly covering what needs to be said and distinctly lacking in colourful prose. Should that fact change, and things get vague and pretty, the Lion is frantic. Desperate. Reacting. Not thinking.

 Further Considerations

The Lion swap has very rocky beginnings – each and every one of the members involved trying to figure it out and correctly adapt all while keeping up with the same momentum (if not more) that Voltron had begun to build.

 Red to Lance

-          Red shares the same form of talking as Blue but she is utterly jarring in comparison. Lance would find her brusque slams of communication more distracting than informative, dizzying him with a sensory overload that is in no way as focusing or calming as Blue’s consistent overflow of sensation. In result, the translations of his intentions and Red’s reactions aren’t quite in sync and they’re prone to overactive response. That, and Red just moves so much faster than Blue and Lance’s spatial judgement in piloting gets constantly skewed and it sucks. In all, Red takes some considerable getting used to.

-          It’s the downtime that’s harder. Lance is more affected by the home-drawn memories and would focus on the event rather than what she’s showing via his feelings of the time, thus missing the actual intention. Seriously, why is she bringing up his first blundering kiss that is EMBARRASSING, STOP.

(He gives back the much better one in defiance, because the darn nosy Lion will learn how great he is in that department thank you very much.)

-          She’s very frustrating to draw understanding from when it’s not something to do with fighting. At least with battle she pulls from moments where he piloted Blue, and those are pretty clear to comprehend - Blue made sense after all. But then it gets weird and disorienting the more Red pulls it because which Lion is he actually in jiminy crickets stop that.

 Blue to Allura

Hmm. Need to watch the season over again to find a clear interpretation and better depth to their relationship. First impressions/ideas though:

-          With Allura, Blue’s talking habits would take a turn – particularly when it becomes apparent that Allura is hardly listening to her. With every forceful push and demand, Blue would withdraw the tide and keep quiet - supportive in that she is trying to understand but lacking due to the failure in communication, and not really able to do much until the princess actually opens up. There’s trying to bond with a Lion because it’s the Thing To Do And I Must, and there’s actually bonding with a Lion.

-          So too, however, is there a matter of having mutual respect. That would be another factor playing in the mix somewhere. Blue is not a thing to be commanded after all.

-          Revise later, perhaps try a practice drabble.

 Black to Keith

-          Where Red is a constantly spinning volume dial, Black is complete and utter silence. To Keith she feels like a void, expansive and without horizon, beyond impossible for him to fill – and he’d never wanted to try. She is an entity impossible to see and impossible to match. It’s not his place.

-          She does not guide in the way he understands. It is cold and empty and sense-less, it does not pull him along but wants him to think, to rationalise, to explain. Keith can’t explain, he just feels. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself when he needed to react. It’s how it’s always been. He struggles to grasp meaning of her emotional prompts with any speed – for what relevance does that feeling even have to the situation?? It’s not what he feels, and feeling is what guides him best. He does not see her point of view. He tries, but it is rarely what his own gut instinct tells him. What’s he supposed to do, go against his own existence? Not likely. To do so has always been viewed as dangerous territory. It’s all that’s kept him going.

-          But then, when Black turns to words Keith is thrown a violent loop. They are not his thoughts, they sound nothing like him. It’s not how he thinks, and he actually hates hearing ‘himself’ like that. Stiff, robotic, empty. (In actuality; calm, precise, focused. It’s a matter of perspective and Keith already views this negatively). It’s wrong. It’s lifeless. It sounds broken to the cause, brainwashed into soldier obedience, a pawn to an empire. He’s not galra.

(And perhaps, subconsciously, being aware Black was once Zarkon’s is what makes it that much worse)

-          Black just feels too large for him to be a part of. To be something that matters in comparison. She’s too far away - not beside him, actively thinking and feeling to every new stimulus, and he’s supposed to just know what to do with the entire span of her inner galaxy while existing as only a tiny spec of it. It wasn’t meant to be his space to fill.

-          A lot of the struggles fall entirely on Keith’s refusal to discard himself and reforge his ideals anew. A leader thinks on the whole and considers the facts for everyone. Keith’s only really had himself to watch for, and then a team to work beside. But not to lead, never to lead. Him fighting the change is the strain on his and the Black Lion’s bond. For how can a bond improve when it’s a bond he never wanted in the first place.

-          But then, Keith is pretty self-aware. He may be refusing adaption for the very reason of not wanting to improve it. To have the Lion concede and choose someone else. It’s selfish, he knows. It endangers their cause, he knows. But Shiro, the leader, is right there. Take him. He knows what he’s doing. Keith doesn’t.

#Voltron legendary defender #voltron lions #voltron #vld #its WORDS #about WORDS #i was gonna post some keith stuff but then i started writing for it instead #so MAYBE the full first chapter of that one soon #maybe #(been stuck on this one segment forever jeez haha) #so anyway have this instead #some behind the scenes stuff #fun fact: the written form segments are also samples of their explanations #or as close as they could get #general feel of what I mean in terms of pacing #SHRUGS idek the level of interest in this kinda stuff and my nervous is showing lmao

[camachameleon]

Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 3/∞

VLD Rec Lists:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** =  favorites )

    **Recoil/Release by Cheshyr

Word count:  22,387 (13/13)

Summary:  When Keith is bitten by an alien creature with venom that causes your dominant emotions to be amplified, the team is ready for a day of dealing with an incredibly angry paladin.

Which means they’re not ready at all for what actually happens.

Comments:  The almost stream-of-consciousness writing of Keith’s parts are really gut-wrenching because it’s as if you are experiencing it with him. (Warning for panic attacks- if you are triggered at all by that sort of thing you may want to sit this one out, it gets pretty graphic). A couple good song pairings for this fic to set the tone are Broken Crown and World Gone Mad.

    **Synergy by Kokochan & Spanch

Word count:  74,064 (10/10) 

Summary:  The vines were large, stiff, gnarly, and thick-stemmed, with blue leaves as big and round as dinner plates, but Shiro’s battle-arm was able to sever several long straggles with ease. The vines draped easily enough over the shuttle and hid it quite handily from view. “Good enough, I suppose,” Shiro said, glaring at the empty greenish-blue sky. “Come on, let’s… Hunk? What’s the matter?”

Hunk was staring at something behind him. “Shiro, don’t make any sudden moves just now, but there’s a really big lizard thing standing right behind you. Um. Two of them.”

Surprised, Shiro turned, albeit carefully. He’d never even heard them approach. That was rather impressive, considering the size of the beasts. It was as though someone had taken a pair of Arizonan horned lizards and rebuilt them more on the lines of a tiger without leaving out any of the spikes, then expanded them to about the size of an Indian elephant and added six large, intelligent blue eyes. Understandably, Shiro froze in place.

Comments: OH. MY. GOSH. OK. SO. This bad boy is Part 1 of 3, so far, with a total series word count of 241,404 at the moment. This beautiful titan of a series is named Of The Pack, and it updates with great speed, considering it has two top tier authors working on it. The several OCs in this story are so lifelike and realistic and fit so well into the universe that I forget that they aren’t actually canon and I kind of miss them when I’m reading other Voltron fics. My favorite part is the world-building it does. Everything about this fic is so dynamic and multi-dimensional, from it’s characters to the epic plot - this is the exact opposite of lazy writing. I am so here for badass Pidge, and the matriarchal Galra culture and the dragons. I👏LOVE👏THIS👏FIC👏

Also there’s magic! (with a scientific explanation, of course)

A cool song that I think goes nice with this fic is Heroes by Måns Zelmerlöw.

  The Kids Are Alright by pugglemuggle

Word count:  10,430 (3/3)

Summary:   Three Garrison Cadets Missing After Freak Satellite Crash

By Mara Garrett, News Editor | The Guardian | Monday, June 13, 2103 7:40 A.M. ET

Two seventeen-year-olds and a fifteen-year-old went missing Friday night after a rogue satellite crashed into the desert a few miles away from the Galaxy Garrison Training Facility, reports say. Garrison officials were quick to cordon off the area, claiming many of the remaining satellite fragments were dangerous and unstable. Government search parties have been sent out into the surrounding desert areas. Details are forthcoming.

—

Her brother is missing. Lance’s sister isn’t about to sit quietly while the Garrison keeps lying to the press. No—she’s going to get to the bottom of this.

(Or: The paladins’ families team up to find their kids and overthrow the corrupt Garrison regime. Told through news articles, prose, the internet, and art.)

Comments:  The format of this is very intriguing and fresh. We get to see scenes of our favorite paladins through the eyes of their friends and families, from before they disappeared and the aftermath. The open ending is still satisfying and leaves you with a sense of determination and hope for these characters that you just couldn’t help but get attached to. If you’re big on government conspiracies then this is the fic for you!

  **Patty Cake by Froldgapp

Word count:  7,829 (6/6)

Summary:  Quiet, aloof, and alone, Keith is distant from the rest of the team. Hunk begins to suspect why, and it’s only when the red paladin pushes himself too far, the Voltron gang realise he’s just as vulnerable as the rest of them.

Comments:  Aaaaahhh this fic. Something about this one has me coming back to reread it all the time even though I always cry. It is just so angsty but in a more poignant, sharp, breathless kind of way. Some of the things the characters say send painful stinging jolts into your chest and you can feel your heart cracking and then you get angry because how dare (I mean ch4 tho holy sh*t). I just want to hug Keith so much ugh. Hunk’s protectiveness of Keith gives me the strength to finish this masterpiece every time. Also, this can kind of be Sheith if you squint (or not, if you don’t).

  The Message by Shipstiel

Word count:  132,787 (45/45)

Summary:  (4:07) okay, but considr this, and hear me out here (4:08) so like, a photobooth u can do with ur pets like there’ll be lil costumes that u can dress them up in, and u can do liek, period costumes and shit with them (4:09) omg, can u imagine, u and ur cat/dog, and theyre in a lil 1800s dress and one of those lace umbrella things omg so cute

(4:15) Why the FUCK are you texting me at four in the morning with this

— 

Keith is texted by accident by some idiot one day, and honestly he’s not even sure why he responds. Or why he keeps responding. Yet somehow he finds himself drawn in, and okay, so maybe this fool is mildly entertaining after all. Who would’ve thought.

Comments:  Slowburn Klance Wrong Number AU. These two are so cute I just can’t. This is the perfect story if you are looking for something effortless and relaxing to read. Even though this contains some softcore Langst, it is still a very cute and heartwarming story about two dorks slowly falling in love. It features Lance’s mother who I fell in love with here, and the kind of supportive nosy best friends that everyone wants in real life (i.e. Hunk, Pidge, and Allura).

  **The Quiet by MilkTeaMiku

Word count:  66,700 (32/32)

Summary:  Does he not realize he’s dead?

Keith can see ghosts. As a part of his Garrison training, he’s sent to a hospital to do one year of medical clerkship - it’s there that he meets a charmingly irritating chose who definitely needs to learn what boundaries are.

Comments:  Modern Ghost AU with eventual Klance. This fic is the most suspenseful story I have ever read in my life. Idk if it’s just me, but I just have this feeling building up paragraph by paragraph of an impending… something. And it has my heart racing which is crazy because it isn’t even particularly fast-paced. There’s just a heaviness to the words that have the hairs on the back of your neck prickling. I literally have to take a breather from reading sometimes to calm down. 

A couple cool songs I think set the mood for this fic is Smother and Mirror.

  Finding Home by spacegaykogane

Word count:  26,966 (6/6)

Summary:  After the wormhole collapses, Keith finds himself stranded on a strange planet. Alone. Until Lance comes along. With their lions dead and resources limited, Keith and Lance need to put aside their differences and work together to get home. Wherever that may be, now.

Comments:  Klance. I love Stranded fics where they have to work together to survive and bond over that. So yeah this one has some whump obviously, bc you know, crash landings aren’t very fun. This one is angsty but its balanced out by the fluffiness in the end.

  Cuddle Puddle by nothingwrongwiththerain

Word count:  46,782 (6/6)

Summary:  Unexpectedly, Shiro’s hand landed on the top of his head. Apparently with Lance and Hunk taking up all the shoulder real estate, Shiro would settle for ruffling Keith’s hair.

Keith was fairly certain his soul was about to detach and abandon his shaking body on the couch. He was surrounded, in the complete and total sense of the word, by other people. Not once before, not in his whole life, had he dealt with a situation like this one.

Or, five times Keith found himself too close for comfort and one time he couldn't get close enough.

Comments:  Klance featuring ace!Keith. Don’t be fooled by the fluffy summary, this is a very angsty fic with lots of Keith whump. Basically, as stated by the author, this story is about ‘Keith struggling with physical contact and learning to accept people care about him’. I love touch-starved Keith stories, like this one. I love the scenes with Kidge bros, featuring a super supportive Pidge. 

  At the Beginning by Sakuraiai

Word count:  64,203 (12/12)

Summary:  Inspired by Anastasia

King Zarkon of the Galra empire lost his only way in to the Kingdom of Altea. In his anger, he put a curse on the royal family. The young, adopted half Galran prince Keith disappeared when the palace was overrun, never to be seen again -- or so it seemed. The only surviving princess, Allura, grieving for her child, offers a reward for Keith's safe return.

Con artists, Lance and his best friend, Hunk plan to pawn off a phony to the princess, hoping to reap the rewards. They hold auditions and choose an orphan man who has a remarkable resemblance to the missing prince -- all the way down to his fluffy Galran ears.

Comments:  Can anyone say Anastasia AU?! I waited with baited breath for each chapter to come out and I was not once disappointed. I love the integration of the different alien races in this timeless story, it all works out so well. Keith just wants to find his mommy and I just want to cry. Also Kidge bros are still my fav as always.

  out of orbit by rbillustration

Word count:  78,135 (19/19)

Summary:  Dragged apart by Haggar’s attack on the wormhole, the paladins and Alteans struggle to survive and find one another again. Luck has placed them all within the same galaxy… but their fortune ends there. Lance is stranded with a badly-injured Shiro and his relief at finding their leader still accompanying him soon turns to terror. Keith may be the only who can rectify the situation - but the Galra have him in their grasp, and they don’t want to kill him. They want him as one of their own.

Comments:  ANGST. SO MUCH ANGST. A brainwashed Galra!Keith plus a Possessed!Shiro. This is the perfect recipe for disaster if I ever saw one. If lots of blood bothers you proceed with caution. I love stranded fics.

A good song rec for this one is Darkside.

  VLD Rec Lists:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

#voltron fic rec list #Klance fic #sheith fic #keith whump #VLD #galra keith #langst #in your orbit #slow burn au #fanfiction #psychic au #wrong number au #highschool au #Cam's Voltron Fic Rec #mine #Moonset Deep #magic #fic: recoil/release #fic: synergy #of the pack series #vfr

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #58

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

A Crack in the Foundation by Emerald_Ashes Words: 3,553 Author’s Summary: A rescue goes wrong. It ends up leaving Hunk and Lance stranded, severely injured, and with no means of escape. My Comments: Based on a prompt I gave the author a while ago, but I totally forgot about it and I would have read this fic anyway, haha. Love this scenario, obviously, and it’s written very well. Hunk is such a sweet guy, even when Lance is rambling and near-delirious from a concussion.

Reflections by hollo Words: 2,246 Author’s Summary: ~ originally printed in Starboy: A Lance Zine ~ …Nostalgia filled him, a distinct and deep sadness that was becoming like a close friend. It came now and then, sometimes falling on him swiftly and sometimes creeping up, silent and nearly unforeseeable, like a thief in the dark. He’d thought he’d get used to it eventually, used to the distance and the lack and how everything and everyone he knew and loved was so, so far away. Sometimes he thought he had - but maybe he’d just gotten used to putting it aside, ignoring it during the day and during the missions so he wouldn’t be distracted from whatever Voltron was being faced with at the time. And they were faced with so much, an entire universe of unknown that they had to face down and deal with, day after day after day… My Comments: Lovely and bittersweet interlude with Lance and the blue lion.

Compromised by gringle for StandinShadow Words: 3,117 Author’s Summary: Keith ignored the rolling sensation of pain radiating from his stomach. “I’m uh… I’ve been injured. I can make it-” probably. Keith was never a betting man in the sense that he’d think in terms of probabilities. He just worked toward a goal, and he either succeeded or failed, and he can’t fail this. “-I just need more time.” “That information is invaluable in overcoming this sector of Empire Control. You have five minutes, or until we’re compromised ourselves,” Kolivan stated, grim and final. Another click, and Kolivan’s voice went silent. My Comments: Great hurt!Keith and concerned Kolivan, with an especially amusing ending. I would love to see a part two, though.

Unrelenting by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 6,195 Author’s Summary: Hufflepuffs are loyal. They’re just. They’re hardworking.Not everyone sees it that way. Hunk does, but it’s not always easy. For Hunk’s Birthday My Comments: Part of a previously recced series, and you should totally read the whole thing. I love this view of Hunk, all the different aspects of him through the years. It’s very realistic and really reminded me of adolescence, that kind of awkwardness and uncertainty that eventually gives way to understanding and pride, or at least acceptance of self. Great stuff.

Keepsake by fandomtrashpanda Words: 2,277 Author’s Summary: Hunk never takes off his headband because it’s the last piece of Samoa he has. *set before and during the events of the show* My Comments: Wonderful little moment with Hunk. I love the idea of the headband being a memento from someone important to him, and there was some nice stuff with Hunk and Lance, too.

Missed Scenes (and Misunderstandings) by LitDragonWagon Words: 6,224 Author’s Summary: Lance isn’t sure why Shiro hates him, but he wishes he could figure it out and fix it. Featuring the worst of misunderstandings, Lance’s inferiority complex, Shiro the most awkward bean, Keith the accidental relationship therapist (who solves problems with violence), Hunk n’ Pidge as the brains, and far too many italics. Gen fic. My Comments: Sequel to a previously recced fic. So, so sweet. I adore Lance and Shiro getting closer, platonically, and all the hugging and cuddling is wonderful.

Black Paladin Week by kitsune13tamlin Words: 7,846 Author’s Summary: I am slow at updates but over on tumblr there was a Shiro-week (check the tag blackpaladinweek for all kinds of Shiro goodness) a while back that I participated in and this is the collection of those short stories. Each day had a different subject and each chapter is the story for the new subject. Chapter title is the day’s subject of choice. Seven short Shiro stories simultaneously! My Comments: Wonderful collection of ficlets, some angstier than others. Very well-written and lyrical prose, a pleasure to read.

The Sparkle in Her Eye by heroami Words: 3,002 Author’s Summary: When was the last time Allura left the Castle for a non-mission reason? The Balmera? That was forever ago. No wonder she was so disappointed. And to think, all she wanted was something sparkly. Lance paused as an idea began to form in his head. It was high risk, but could lead to high reward. My Comments: So sweet and adorable. I absolutely believe that Lance would do this, and Allura’s reaction was so cute.

A Name By Any Other by IcyPanther Words: 3,558 Author’s Summary: To avoid another one of Shiro’s exhausting training scenarios, the Paladins settle on a bonding activity and opt to talk about their names. What they thought would be a light-hearted topic turns deeply personal when they realize that no name is as simple as it appears. For behind every name there is a story just waiting to be told. —– “Names?” Shiro repeated, raising an eyebrow. Pidge nodded vigorously. “Yes. Like, how we all got our names. Other than Keith none of us are using our actual ones, right?” “Excuse me?” Lance protested. “Lance is my real name!” “You’re from Cuba,” she said pointedly. “And we’ve all heard you go on about your siblings. They have Hispanic names. You do not. Therefore, Lance is not your real name.” My Comments: Fluffy and sweet with just a touch of angst and some lovely bonding. Great read.

these old bones by achievingelysium Words: 4,937 Author’s Summary: He’s always been fascinated with dinosaurs. Keith isn’t entirely sure why—maybe it’s because their footprints are still here, even after so long. Maybe he’s hearing the echoes of history calling for him. Maybe, just maybe, it’s because he sees himself in those old bones. A Keith character study told in three parts. Originally written for the Aphelion zine. My Comments: Lovely language and prose in this character study and backstory for Keith. All of images and emotions were vivid and striking.

oh my god, he’s in quarantine by prettyshiroic (AnalystProductions) Words: 9,532 Author’s Summary: Whilst with the blade of Marmora, Keith gets sick and is put in quarantine. It’s not at all what Matt expects. - There are some talks to be had. And Matt’s attempts bring karma to the yard. He is such a fool to have not foreseen any of this. My Comments: I absolutely adore this characterization Matt, goofy and nerdy and caring and big-brotherly, especially since Keith needs a whole lot of big-brothering. A real pleasure to read.

The Real MacGyver by A_Zap Words: 4,864 Author’s Summary: Some people talk about how someone can be the genuine article, the real McCoy. In that case, Hunk is the real MacGyver, capable of making whatever the team needs from what he has on hand. 5 times that Hunk used his engineering skills to help out the Team/the cause, and one times he used his skills for fun. My Comments: Adorable and heartwarming and amazing, with just a touch of angst. Hunk is so very much the best, and it’s great to see him getting some proper appreciation. The end was fun and funny, too.

Make My Messes Matter by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 4,937 Author’s Summary: After a nightmare about the Galra ship, Ryou tries to sneak out of the castle to deal. On the way out, he’s spotted by Keith My Comments: Part of a previously recced series. I love Ryou connecting with the Voltron team and making relationships on his own terms, and this was particularly nice for the resolution of some conflict earlier in the series between he and Keith. Yellow was a wonderful additional presence in the fic, too.

Together We’ll Be by hanbunnotsuki Words: 4,570 Author’s Summary: At the end of a mission, Team Voltron find a lost space-puppy, separated from its pack. While they try to get the little one back to its family, the team adopts it as one of their own. Even the briefest and littlest encounter can leave its mark on one’s heart. My Comments: Absolutely heartwarming, and so adorable. It was lovely to watch all of the members of Team Voltron bond with a furry little friend, though it couldn’t last forever.

blue by FeyduBois Words: 2,089 Author’s Summary: Lance is stranded on an alien planet while the paladins regroup. He was just going to chill for a bit, he didn’t expect to fall prey to a predatory hallucinogenic jungle, and he certainly didn’t expect to meet the Blue Lion’s last paladin. My Comments: Very fun and interesting read. The descriptions were entrancing, and the previous Blue Paladin was very cool. I like what canon gave us for Lance’s predecessor, but this alternate vision is wonderful too.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Why it sucks to be a snake in space (73848 words) As Color Fades Away (268320 words) The Purity of Sin (91236 words) Shadows of Stars (155620 words)

#voltron legendary defender #weekly voltron fic recs #fic rec #vldgen

[just-a-dinosaur-i-guess]

HMM sending you “We can’t let him find out!” + hunting dogs :)

HUNTING DOGSS <333 uhm i was thinking about the bsd kindergarten and being sad we don't have canon hunting puppies so i babied them

"We can't let him find out!" Teruko crosses her arms, pouting at the others. Jouno looks unamused, yet is nibbling on their stolen cookie regardless as they reply, "How are we meant to hide the lack of cookies?" "We make fake ones," Tetchou says very seriously, arms crossed. "That's stupid, Tetchou." Jouno replies, nibbling more angrily on the cookie. "Maybe we hide that there were cookies at alll.." Tachihara eyes a window. "But we can't reach up there." Tetchou glances at him. "Well if he finds out we're all gonna be in trouble!" Teruko whines, "So you all better start coming up with better ide-" "Find out what?" Fukuchi's voice interrupts from behind them.

#littencloud9 #hunting dogs #bsd hunting dogs #hunting dogs bsd #dino answers #pidge does prose #hunting puppies #in case i ever write more of them..

[voxiferous]

1, 5, 6, 14, and 20 for the fanfic ask meme :3

1. If you’re an author, how many WIPs do you currently have? (Be honest!)

Okay, so the currently active ones are...○ No. 6 zine “Nezumi is a forest god” AU (untitled)○ FFXV Coma AU (Perchance to Wake) which I’ve published the prologue and one chapter of... there are 11 more to go X_X○ VLD Kidge Soulmate AU (Say My Name)

Then there are the ones which I started a while ago and haven’t finished but WILL finish someday...○ Homestuck “9 Nepetas on a self discovery mission” AU (9 Lives 1 Love)○ OFF Batarie from Zacharie’s POV (OFF-script)○ No. 6 Fateswap Beyond

5. What’s a crackship you love?

I think all my Voltron ships are crackships, lol... Shiro x Hunk, Shiro x Keith, Keith x Pidge, Pidge x Lance, not to mention Thace x Ulaz XD None of these are particularly popular but i love them all, especially Shiro x Hunk! 

I have a couple of FFXV crackships as well. Ignis x Coctura being the primary one. I’m alone in a canoe for that one XD

6. What’s the last thing you read that made you laugh?

let’s see... *scrolls through AO3 history*

this dragon age fic by ringlov about their Brosca seeing the surface for the time. Brosca is super grumpy about it and great. dwarves discovering the surface is a very excellent genre

14. (For authors) Post a line of dialogue from one of your WIPs without context.

Since this is for you, here’s a line from Say My Name that may get cut because I think I want to completely rewrite this part but this is what I have for now

“Keith?” Pidge said incredulously, before she could stop herself. Behind her back, her fists clenched tighter. “Your name is Keith? How can you possibly have a human name when you’re an alien? And how are you speaking English?”

20. Do you have a favorite fanfic or author? If so, tag them/post a link and share the love!

Okay so aside from you, @revasnaslan, who writes Exceedingly Excellent Thulaz that everybody in the voltron fandom should read, I’m going to list some of my other friends whose fics people should read.

@glittercracker - has absolutely gorgeous prose. HXH and No. 6 fandoms although she does have one fabulous Promptis fic (NSFW)

@yuneyn - writes the fluffiest and cutest promptis

some other FFXV authors of note:

@ninemoons42 @domesticfluffsimulator

i’d like to be more efflusive with my reasons why everyone should read every single fic written by these people but unfortunately my brain is tired tonight so just take my word for it okay :P

thanks for the ask, rev! ♥

#vox answers #vox memes #revasnaslan

[hyacinthetic]

end of the year writing meme 2k17

because i did this last year and i want to gloat over my truly embarrassing uptick in wordcount.

Total number of completed stories: 8 + 1 wip + 1 snippet.  Total word count: 151,100, MOTHERFUCKER. Fandoms: voltron, persona 5, natsume’s book of friends.

Overall Thoughts

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted? TOO MUCH VOLTRON. WAY, WAY TOO MUCH VOLTRON.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? i have 40k of lotor/matt sitting on my hard drive. it's going to break 60k after edits. i don't want this life.

What's your own favorite of the year? the post-series winter cult au was my favorite bit of writing, but i am gonna clutch the pseudo-utena pastiche (disclaimer: not actually related to utena in any way) to my chest all the more because nobody else will. 36K WORDS, MOTHERFUCKERS.

Did you take any writing risks this year? mmm. i've used the second-person pov before to varying degrees of efficacy, but the junior detective kurusu akira fic and the every day au were the first times i really tried to use it as a proper conceit -- a choice that related to the way the character wanted the story framed. ymmv on how well they worked (ha! ha! most of the second-person punch in the junior detective fic happens in the ~20k after the prologue, oh god, nobody even knows what i'm talking about). at the v. least, i still think the every day au's ending wouldn't pack such a punch from any other perspective.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? WRITE STUFF THAT ISN'T VOLTRON, FOR FUCK'S SAKE. i've been reduced to just clawing at doors hissing LET ME GO... LET MY PEOPLE GO ...

From my past year of writing, what was...

My best story of this year: definitely the post-series winter cult. people keep describing it as hard to get into, which, yeah, it is. but it's also the most polished piece from this year.

in general, my best fic is always still the dazai/yosano thing from 2016. i didn't even round out all the subplots for that one, but because it's a crack ship, the whole dynamic is something i made, and i think that earns it a place on the trophy shelf.

My most popular story of this year: the shrine guardian au, i guess? which is bewildering, frankly: it's very fluffy, but i don't see that it does anything better than my other works. not to be all lucille bluth, i love all my children equally!!! and its prose is fine, but i wouldn't call it a standout piece.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: it is a tie between my two big voltron aus -- i understand why the pseudo-utena flopped as hard as it did (60k worth of fic crammed into 36k, badly edited, had to cut two subplots and it still turned out a mess), but the darkest timeline auniverse fic was decent work with mediocre prose and a fuckton of worldbuilding. i'm this close to digging up a worldbuilding meme and answering all the questions that literally nobody will ever ask. THERE WAS SO MUCH TIMELINE BUILDING IN THAT ONE.

Most fun story to write: fun & joy are lies. all fic is suffering. only the motor fic came close, and that was awful in a different way: two characters with little established personality having to build chemistry and worldbuilding at the same time. fuck you both.

Story with the single sexiest moment: hilariously, despite the amount of porn i like to write, none of my fic's been personally sexy to me since 2013's mikorei pwp in which mikoto blew up some buildings and then convinced munakata to fuck him into a wall. what can i say, i'm an arson kind of girl.

Most "holy crap, that's wrong, even for you" story: nothing posted this year! but i'm gonna talk about my impending january posts because god, fuck, i'm not waiting a year so that i can talk excitedly about my 60k nightmare, i plan to be fucking burned out on voltron by february.

anyway: the first time i tried to explain lotor/matt to my best girl, she promptly texted back in horror: "DID YOU WRITE FIC WHERE LOTOR SOULBONDS MATT AND LEAVES HIM TO GET GANGBANGED." and, like. i want to explain, but the actual explanation wasn't really that much more comforting. so, there'll be that. i guess.

(there's actually no non-con involved! it's not even dubcon! IT'S NOT EVEN MATT WHO GETS LEFT.)

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: the fucking motor fic. i knew what i liked about lotor as i was going in -- 90% of my motivation in writing it was "okay, i can't make any of the existing major lotor ships work for me, let's just throw this ridiculous spaghetti galra at a shipping wall and see what sticks" -- but matt was much more nebulous to me. i know fanon matt isn't all that far off from the matt we actually saw in season 4, but i was interested in someone who wasn't an older, cheerful, ingenious, meme-loving version of pidge. and the detail that i really got stuck on was the fact that he was a cadet when he went to kerberos, even though keith was the best pilot in his class and keith couldn't go. why?

obviously the simpler answer's "narrative convenience" and "why would anyone trust keith enough to send him into space with millions of dollars' worth of space equipment". but i really did want to play with the alternative too.

Hardest story to write: fucking god. the european travelogue was downright awful to get out. i think it's partly that there's an emotional density to it that isn't really present in my other fic, and partly that it's 25K OF SHIRO DESCRIBING ARCHITECTURE THAT IS PERFECTLY EASY FOR ANYBODY TO GOOGLE AND LOOK AT WITH THEIR OWN EYES.

i also found sheith particularly hard to build as a convincing slowburn. i have no idea how anyone does it. the ship's selling point, to me, is that keith would give shiro anything. if shiro weren't romantically interested, keith would live and die for him in every other way and be absolutely satisfied by that. i never write keith as secretly wanting more than shiro can give -- he'll do it by accident, when he misunderstands what shiro's capable of, but ultimately that's not what keith wants himself to be. shiro plays by the rules a little better, understands the risks + selfishness of dating someone only to leave them for a dangerous ten-month expedition -- but when it comes down to it, i can't write them as anything other than two people who understand each other at the baseline, where it counts. like, shiro may not actively acknowledge it, but i don't think he DOESN'T know that keith has no breaking point when it comes to him, and that there is very unlikely to be anyone else who could ever be what shiro is to him.

anyway: 25k of no-plot fluff! jesus! it was a fun little experiment, and i'm still amazed and delighted that anyone hunted my tumblr down to ask for fic. but i'll probably never write anything like that again.

Biggest disappointment: can you believe that i wrote 36k of psychic bonding fic and it didn't lead to telepathic porn? there's a lot in the utena pastiche that made me go "mm, not enough", a lot that was flatly messy first-draft fumbling, and i've never been happy about how it turned out, but that's still the biggest outrage to me. like. what was even the point. there's so much about it that makes me itch to rewrite, but the number-one reason that i never, ever will is that i'd have to find somewhere to fit porn to make it worth my time AND SOME THINGS ARE JUST IMPOSSIBLE.

Biggest surprise: i!! posted!! 100k+ words!!!!!!! WITH OVERFLOWING PUNCTUATION BECAUSE I DESERVE IT, MOTHERFUCKER. ficwise, though -- the lotor/matt au. why the fuck would you ship two characters who literally have no screen time together, share nothing in common, and are unlikely to develop a dynamic in future seasons, let alone this one? answer: ME: You have to promise to read the Lotor/Matt thing even though I've realised that their portmanteau is "Motor". MY GIRL: WELL now i have to read it ME: ME: Never mind, your boner killed mine.

but the joke's on me, because the one way to guarantee that i'll write something is a hot girl telling me she'll read it.

i love how most of this meme is grim self-encouragement to finish a fic that feels like it is literally killing me by dint of being the longest goddamn thing i've written in my life.

Most unintentionally telling story: well, it was GONNA be the junior detective kurusu akira fic, but i DIDN'T FINISH THAT.

on a more personal note: the every day au's ending was never in question for me. i'm rarely in the mood for conversation, but i can't stand keeping my feelings to myself: i don't feel real unless someone else can see me. it's why i like to yell in my post tags and do memes even though i follow like three actual personal blogs and a significant portion of this tumblr's designed to actively discourage 90% of people who stumble across it from adding me. the idea that, when you strip the viewer out, the object disappears -- that's probably as 'me' as a story gets.

Highlights + Wrap-up

Favourite Opening Lines (3):

The courthouse's a brushfire of camera lenses.

You wake up. [ ed. nt: not really the most unique or interesting of opening lines, but i've started to appreciate how this echoes throughout the piece and then builds into a clusterfuck chorus by the end. ]

[ nope. the other first lines weren't that great. fuck you, meme.]

Favorite 5 Line(s) Ficbits from Anywhere: [ ed. nt: fuck you, word limits & punctuation. ]

"I knew you were gone—long gone. No one could've called you back. But I just kept saying—if they were really Voltron, you'd be with them. You'd have come back for me."

"You stand," Allura whispers, "on territory that was consecrated by the five rituals of essential transference. You stand within the walls that my grandfather built, the walls for which my father sacrificed everything to keep from enemy dominion. The planet Altea remains because I lay claim to it, because I have not yielded to time and I will not yield. You may have served as Zarkon's witch; but in these halls, your very life hangs on Altea's mercy, my mercy. Either you'll remember an Altean's manners or a prisoner's—but so long as you speak to me, Haggar, you will choose one." -- so this fic was a series of dramatic triumphs that i did not build up to and therefore had no right to put in, but i don't care. if i'm going to write 100k++ of fic in a year, it's gonna be spread out over like ten different fics. and this is my favorite of the dramatic non-love confessional speeches that i wrote this year.

Keith lisps briefly and nastily under his breath. "Why would anyone pronounce an apostrophe?” <-- me throwing shade at a hundred years of scifi.

[ fuck you, listicles. ]

[ fuck you pt. 2. all the other sentences sucked. ]

Trivia left out of three fic:

pidge survives the events of the every day au and does eventually go on to form voltron. i left the fic where i did as a dramatic stopping point; in my head, i always knew where things were going to go afterwards. this clarity was helped in no small part because i had to immediately spill my guts to my best girl after she finished reading and realised in outrage that i'd given her a 19k fic in which her otp kissed zero (0) times. but yeah, everything works out -- albeit with a superdose of trauma -- and keith and pidge in particular have a moment which appeals to all my friendship kinks. i couldn't write the sequel in second-person, though, which is probably why i'll never do it. if i can't be pretentious and tragic, and i still can't work in any porn, then what is the point.

shiro, in the weird tattoo porn thing, has no idea of the effect he's having. in his mind, he's just being reasonable. this ties into my preference for writing s3-4!shiro as someone who thinks of himself as the same man who fell to earth a year ago, someone who has survived the galra over and over, someone who wants to lead in the war and deserves to do it. the trouble with this is that about one-point-five of those things are not necessarily things that the original shiro actually believes. i love this discrepancy between writing the two: there's one who buys into his own mythology of being a hero, and there's one who just wants everyone to survive and be happy and safe. in an ideal world (note: ideal to nobody but me), project kuron would be a thing where they created a perfect clone of shiro with all his memories but accidentally infused it with just enough galra beliefs about strength and the importance of war that it sabotages voltron's mission. that particular shiro doesn't mean to be fucked up, but his beliefs are, and he doesn't realise it until after the fallout of everything he's done hits the team. it's the entire basis for his behavior afterwards. this is one of those character development things that fell into the margins between the tattoo porn and its weird au sequel. i should have written the fic in between, i'm sure it would've been less confusing for everyone who read the goddamn sequence, but honestly, you could not pay me enough to write about keith and shiro's relationship falling apart.

this was never made explicit in the fic itself, though it seems pretty clear to me, but here goes. of the ten photographs, nine are pictures that shiro takes for keith to remember them by. the last is one that keith takes for shiro.

Lessons learned about writing in 2017:

when in doubt during edits, read the paragraph out loud. you don't have to do it very loudly, but people respond to something that flows off the tongue even if they aren't actually reading it out to themselves.

you're a niche writer. you write for you. that means you don't really have to edit if you're tired.

deadlines are bullshit. don't sign up for any more events featuring those.

with the way i write, there's always an element of mistrust. in my shorter fics, people are breaking up because they can't trust each other, or they're teetering on the brink of getting together -- but. in my longer fics, i really, really love to throw an unexplained element of mistrust into the mix (see: the fic where shiro leaves his own dimension and refuses to go back without any explanation) and only 'reveal 'it at the end. mistrust is an easy shortcut to tension. it's a good way to reframe the story, but it's also ... hm. predictable if it's literally all you write? i like to think that i'm capable of writing plots whose value isn't entirely based on the way they're told. i just need to let the story breathe once in a while.

the comma before 'too' is grammatically incorrect when that's the end of the sentence. my entire life is a goddamn lie.

there's such a thing as overdetail. a loose sketch and a twinkle of atmosphere will do better than three dense paragraphs detailing exactly where all the cathedrals are. my god, i never want to leave this continent again.

the best writing feeling is posting something and then tweaking all the small mistakes out of it. the second-best writing feeling is bringing someone you like a freshly-killed (read: edited) piece of prose, then demanding pets and cuddling for your great act of magnimity and courage.

looking back on my life, i should have been born a cat.

Fic-writing goals for 2018

post/finish all 80k of my existing drafts, THEN LEAVE VOLTRON FOREVER, I'M SO DARKLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS EXODUS.

seriously, write for any fandom but voltron. oh my god.

maybe i can just dive headfirst into ocean's eight and write a lot of bantery f/f until everyone forgets my embarrassing gay robolion phase.

a sci-fi au for nirvana in fire, heavily influenced by recent military scifi, in which (contrary to all the imperial death traditions) the chiyan army's memories and consciousness are ostensibly deleted from the imperial archives as punishment for their betrayal. several years down the line, jingyan finds his political influence rising with the advice of a helpful and very insistent ai advisor. IT'S TOO COMPLICATED AND I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT IT.

did you know that the natori/matoba section on ao3 has no explicit fic at all? like, zero. 2018 goals, baby. i don't care that nobody needs to know what horrible things they'd do to each other in bed. i'm gonna be this ship's rule 34, or the arsonist who burns down the house of the person who gets to it before me.

#writing meme #why everything

[ao3feed-klance]

Love Has No Name

read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2vzotQu

by Ashesofthefirststar

Mullet, Samurai, Team Leader, Lance rarely calls Keith by his name, but what happens when he no longer can?

  _________

Or: Falling in love, sexual awakenings, and self discoveries, save the fact that he's a galatic freedom fighter light-years away from home, Lance's story has all the makings of your typical coming of age saga. It shouldn't be that hard, right?

Words: 14164, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron), shiro/not shiro, Allura, Coran (Voltron)

Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)

Additional Tags: pinning, Lance's POV, shiro's a clone, HELLA SPOILERS, Canon Compliant, past trauma, long chapters, self worth issues, Lance is ride or die, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, clone shiro is an ass, he doesn't mean it doe, Lance just has a lot of emotions, and is trying his best, Happy Ending, ignore my shitty prose style, ALL THE ANGST, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Bisexual Lance (Voltron)

read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2vzotQu

#klance #voltron #voltron legendary defenders #ao3feed

[lvtvr]

★ lvtvr’s long-winded writing advice ★

Heyo. I’m Charlie and I write. You may know me for my Keith/Lance fanfics. I don’t know if it helps my credibility, but I have articles in print that I’ve been paid to produce, I’ve translated and proofread four novels, and I’ve been writing off and on for nearly eighteen years. I’m not perfect, I’m not a master, but I do know what I’m doing. So if you write too, and you want to get better, here are some of the things I’ve learned.

Less is more.

You know the quote “Blood orange? Shut up, it’s fucking red.” Remember this while you’re writing. If you’ve ever seen one of those “100 synonyms for ‘said’ to use while writing :)” lists, here’s what to do with it: burn it. No one utters or opines or verbalizes shit. They fucking say it.

Basically: use vocabulary that you know. Turn to big fancy words if you are certain that they’re the best way to express the nuance you’re going for, but avoid them if you’re only using them to make your prose more “interesting.” Don’t worry about sounding a little repetitive. Sounding pretentious or like someone who hangs out too much on Thesaurus.com is a lot worse.

Remember your whole body.

Ever read writing that punches you in the gut and makes you feel things? Ever aspired to create something like that yourself? Well, the key to doing it is to remember the body. Stay aware of the fact that we exist in the world as messy 3D beings made of blood and meat and emotion. 

It’s natural for most people to start with visual impressions and describe what things look like, but your writing won’t start to come alive until you also begin describing what they feel like, smell like, taste like. The five senses are a cheesy but effective checklist. Throw in sounds, smells, and body sensations alongside the visual aspect.

This goes for emotion, too. If your character is sad, think back to what you felt like when you were sad. Heavy gut? Rain clouds in your head? Tears pricking at the backs of your eyes, but never quite falling? All that is a lot more interesting than simply saying “they were sad.”

For the love of God, never type “Hello.” He said.

This falls under the general umbrella of using correct grammar (which you should!), but I feel the need to point this particular faux pas out because a) it’s soooo common for people to do this, and b) I can’t stand it. This is the type of persistent mistake that actively interferes with the flow of the writing for me as a reader. I don’t care if some big-name fic author does it or if you’ve seen a million others do it -- you’ll never find it in a professionally proofread and edited book. Because, at the end of the day, it’s wrong.

Compare these two examples:

"This sucks.” She sighed. “This sucks,” she sighed.

In the first example, she says the words first, and sighs afterward. In the second, she’s sighing the words. Simple difference. If the action is directly related to how the dialogue is being conveyed, it should come attached to the dialogue. If the action and dialogue are separate, separate them. Throwing in a bunch of loose, orphaned “He said” clauses is choppy and incorrect and pisses me off to an irrational degree. Please, please avoid this. I’m begging you on my hands and knees.

Focus your characterization.

Keeping characters in character is one of the biggest challenges of writing. I find that an easy way to stay on track is to summarize the character’s way of reacting to the world in one or two simple sentences, and when you’re not sure what they would say or do, try to keep it in line with that basic conception. 

For example, I’ve characterized Keith from Voltron as someone who “feels things very strongly and honestly, but has trouble putting his emotions into words.” My Hunk is “prone to gossip, but has a heart of gold and the strongest sense of justice you ever saw.” I keep this minimalist notion of a character at the front of my mind when I write them, and it usually helps them stay themselves.

Try to keep it general, though. “Passionate about food,” “flirts a lot,” or “in love with Mothman” aren’t basic personalities, they’re character traits. They don’t tell us anything about how someone will act in a given situation, and make for poor, flat characterization.

Write what you want to read.

No, really. I know that the urge to pander is strong, as is the desire to give the people what they want. But you’re people, too. Give yourself what you want. Is this hard? You bet. But it’s worth it when someone tells you “God, reading this is so refreshing. I’m so glad it wasn’t exactly like everything else.”

Voltron-specific stuff incoming here, but I feel like it’s important. Listen. Don’t write a fic where Keith and Lance have one (1) drawn-out argument before falling in hapless, sappy love, where Keith and Shiro are brothers and Hunk and Pidge are the Hilarious Meme Sidekicks, just because you feel like you have to. If you’re really passionate about that scenario, then by all means write it, but don’t do it because you’re afraid that’s all people are going to want to read. It’s not true. More likely than not, they’re sick of reading the same fic for the millionth time, and they’d love to see your take on things.

Remember: Fanon isn’t the law. Not even canon is the law. Follow your kokoro. Go weird places. You do you. I will be cheering you on.

Kudos to you if you read this entire mess. I hope it could be of some help. Now go write! I believe in you, friendo.

#writing advice #writing #fic stuff #long post #SO LONG... IM SORRY #also my word isnt the law either #do what helps you and ignore the rest #except for the 'Hey.' He said. thing #don't do that. #it's the rules #not allowed!!!

[sp4c3-0ddity]

So I'm still catching up on "Strangeness and Charms" (I'm horrible, I know), but for the fanfic ask meme, how about 9 and 10? :)

WELL despite the lack of specifics i remember you liked my one and only kid fic so i’ll answer the questions for that (also thank you for the ask i’m sorry it took so long ;_;)

(9) Favorite line(s) of dialogue?

funny thing is that i have a bit of an aversion to both writing and reading kid fic, so this one in particular posed a challenge...yet i’m looking back at it now and i actually still like the way this one turned out and had a hard time narrowing down the dialogue to a little so this is like a quarter of Pidge’s and Lance’s conversation:

“She’ll have your brain and my good looks, the total package. We’ll have to beat back suitors with a sword when she gets older. Hey, you think we can hire Keith as a bodyguard from now?”

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him, somewhat cheered. “Oh, is that all?”

“...she does have your eyes.”

She snorted, turning so she could return his embrace. “I’d rather her have your sense of humor.”

“So you finally admit that you think I’m funny?”

Pidge smiled. “I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned it at some point.”

“You could stand to mention it more,” Lance said, bumping her forehead with his. “But anyway, just because I woke up before you doesn’t make you a worse parent.”

“I know,” Pidge admitted.

“Also, not that it’s a competition,” Lance said contemplatively, “but I will be the favorite one day.”

ANYWAY i confess to being Not a Parent...in fact i still live with mine, so i feel like i’ve seen some of this stuff secondhand (but also...not really...doesn’t help that i don’t remember much about my younger sister’s babyhood ;_;), BUT my parents still compare us to them in some respects (for example i have my dad’s eyes and my mother is sometimes like why are you this much like your dad and he’s always like it’s okay you’re cursed with the Family Memory and the early gray hairs)

also this conversation just seems prototypical plance and i love that and them

(10) Favorite line(s) of prose?

well it’s a really short fic so doesn’t have a whole lot of prose to choose from but i suppose it would have to be the whole final scene:

Pidge woke up first - and on a Saturday, no less - the following morning, and Lance found her sitting on the couch in the living room with Sana awake and wide-eyed in her lap. She read a book about space aloud to her and pointed out all the pictures, explaining them to her even though it would be months still until she could comprehend.

Lance sat beside them, relaxing and extending an arm across the back of the sofa behind Pidge, but she barely spared him a glance.

“...and Jupiter is the biggest,” she read. She guided Sana’s fingers to the page. “Jupiter has this big red spot on it, and it--” She cut herself off and turned to glare at Lance. “What?”

Lance grinned, full of warmth and glad for a day he didn’t have work; he could phone his mother, spend the day with his family...and maybe help Pidge redistribute the clutter at home. “Nothing,” he said. “Tell us more about Jupiter, Dr. Holt.”

Pidge rolled her eyes but smiled as she kept reading with their daughter now sitting between them.

it just has a certain...nostalgia to it for me, since my parents basically read to me from birth and my dad’s an astronomy nerd (has a telescope and was in an astronomy club and everything...except stargazing is Difficult where we now live because light pollution is the Worst) so i grew up with a bunch of books about astronomy designed for kids and those were always the best loved pages in my bigger “general” science books

#qna #reem writes fic #sorry it took me forever and a day to answer this ;_; #irony is that i have one more too #mistyhollowpro